


Believer

by cellard00rs



Series: The Bonded Series [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Angst, Blood, Death, Demon Sex, Demon!Shane, Demons, Dirty Talk, Drama, Dry Humping, Fallen Angels, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Ghosts, Gore, Horror, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-03-30 10:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 101,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13949721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/pseuds/cellard00rs
Summary: Some demons and otherworldly creatures love climbing up the power ladder. Shane is not one of these. He likes where he is (thank you very much) and has no interest in moving up. All he wants is to give his friend Ryan a nice birthday gift. So, naturally, everything goes to hell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is RPF but not? Like, I'm going off a very fictional premises here, where one of them is a demon and all - so I'm just saying I recognize that these are real people who mostly are not acting when they do their videos and I in no way ship them in real life. But within the completely fictional story I'm about to tell here, there may be romantic elements. Hopefully that makes some kind of sense.

Shane walks casually into the DMV. There’s a lot of people. There are _always_ a lot of people. But not many of them waltz right up to the information desk and wink at the person behind the counter. Shane gets an eye roll from the chubby woman sitting there, “Did you take a number?”

“Do I have to?”

She eyes him up and down, squints, “You’re not even an upper level.”

“Nooo, but-!”

“Lower levels take numbers,” she cuts in firmly and he deflates a little, “C’mon, Judy – you’re going to make me wait with _them_?”

He forks a thumb over one shoulder, clearly pointing to all the people sitting around the DMV in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. She huffs, slightly amused, “ _Please_. You’re more one of them than one of ours.”

“Hey now, watch it! That’s offensive!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Shane returns with a sharp smile, “It’s…it’s species-ist!”

This gets a raised eyebrow and he explains softly, just so that only the two of them can hear, “Judy, I’m not some lowly _human_. Give me just a little more credit than that, huh?”

She snorts, “At your level? Again, I say – close enough.”

“But close enough to take a _number_? That’s just…that’s _cold_.”

She leans back in her seat and eyes him thoughtfully before giving him a genuine chuckle, “You’re lucky you’re cute, Madej. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Aw, you’re my favorite, Judy! Did you know that?” Shane offers brightly and she waves him off with a ‘yeah, yeah’ as she picks up the handle of a blue phone in front of her. She tilts her head to one side as she listens to whoever is on the other end before she says dryly, “Yeah, I got a level one here. Yes, I know, I told him to take a number, but…”

She pauses and Shane knows whoever on the other end is talking. A lot. Finally she deadpans, “Don’t pull that shit with me, Phil. You let in a one last week. Look, I’ve got enough of a headache out here without having to deal with this guy, so – yeah, yeah, so Michael is free? Great, I’ll send him in.”

She hangs up and picks up a red pen, flicking it towards a door to the far right, “Go on through. Second door on the left.”

Shane gives her a nod and follows her instructions. He finds himself in a small, stuffy office and the guy behind the desk looks overworked, “You the level one?”

“I have a name.”

“Hmm, bettin’ it’s a pretty human one.”

“Shane,” he offers, then slides in, “Madej.”

This makes the guy sit up, “Madej, huh? That’s a good one. You legacy?”

“Sort of,” Shane offers and takes a seat opposite him, looking at the gold name plate on his desk, “‘Malthazor’? I thought Judy said your name was ‘Michael’.”

Malthazor shifts a myriad of papers about his desk, “Yeah, like her name is ‘Judy’. Look – you, me, her? We’re all about the same level of demon, right? Difference is, she and I work with direct higher-ups. Now, what do you want? Reassignment? Right to Possess? Return trip?”

Shane shakes his head and slouches into his seat, hands going to the pockets of his jeans, “Nah, nothing like that. I was just…do you need to look at my case file or-?”

“What do you think I’m-? Ah ha!” Malthazor draws back a plain looking file from the papers he’d been struggling with. He opens it and it’s empty. For about two seconds, until he snaps his fingers and a neatly typed set of papers appear. He scans it rapidly, “Okay, okay. I see, I see. So, you’ve been posing as a human for a little over five years now, had your previous history – childhood, education, basic background – provided for you by the council of False Humanities and you’ve been put in charge of one,” he squints, “Ryan Beegar?”

“‘Bergara’,” Shane corrects, “Yeah, first real concrete assignment. Higher-ups were concerned about him like any other highly eminent person who might actually point the finger at true supernatural occurrences.”

“‘Highly eminent’? Isn’t he just a social media star?”

“The times are a’changin’, my friend. Social media has pull,” Shane’s tone is casual, but he finds himself just that little bit affronted. Ryan _is_ eminent, just as he himself is. Sort of.

Hell, maybe he should have just said highly prolific.

Still, Malthazor seems convinced, “Alright, so you’ve been watching over him, making sure he doesn’t find anything concrete, get himself into any scrapes that could expose us. I’m sure you’ve influenced him to investigate the pre-approved sights we’ve set up?”

Shane winces, “I wouldn’t say I influence him.”

This gets a widening of eyes, “You don’t use influence on your human?”

“He’s not my-!” Shane shifts in his seat uneasily, does his best to recapture his unflappable air, “Look, influence hasn’t been necessary, okay? Ryan tends to gravitate to the appropriate sites himself.”

Which is true. The entire hierarchy of demons and the supernatural long ago came to the consensus that humans were just…too curious. It was annoying. _Very_ annoying. So, it was decided – in the very, very early days of history – to set up preapproved sites. Areas where supernatural events were said to have occurred, where murders and horrors actually _did_ occur but just…weren’t actually haunted. At all.

Demons and ghosts steered clear of those places. Oh, they stopped by occasionally. Dropped the random whisper pocket, the feeling of dread in the air, the overall spookiness. But that was about it. They certainly didn’t set up shop and _live_ there. Those places existed to serve only one purpose and one purpose only. Distraction. They were like amusement parks for the living – they offered ‘thrills’ but no real, concrete evidence.

Keeping humans unaware of the truth was paramount, solely for the sheer fact of wanting anonymity. Yes, demons did use their influence. After all, once humans were dead there was a fifty-fifty chance their souls would go to Hell and souls are always a fresh commodity there, but _until_ they died, it was best to keep everyone and everything in the dark.

Hence how Shane got his position. Several lower levels were assigned to humans who were just too inquisitive when it came to the supernatural. Ryan was one of them. And all in all, Shane had to say it was a pretty plush assignment. He didn’t want to be a big influencer – the type of demon who swayed several souls towards damnation. He didn’t want to be a possesser – the type of demon who possessed living humans and used them for some nefarious ends. He wanted to do exactly what he was doing.

Yeah, humans could be a little grating. Yeah, he sometimes _did_ take breaks to go on returns trips, because it was nice now and again to help out in the torturing souls department – but, overall? He found his job to be the absolute _best_. He didn’t even care that he was low level. He had no interest whatsoever in advancement – famous lineage aside. He was more than happy being a one and keeping an eye on Ryan.

Which is where his request came in. He sits up some and does his best to play it cool as he speaks, “Actually Mal, that’s why I dropped by. I’ve kept Ryan on the right path for a while now and I’ve spent a lot of time with the guy and I was wondering if, um, maybe I could take him...somewhere else.”

Malthazor blinks rapidly, “Somewhere else?”

Shane nods, “Like…maybe Lot Forty Seven?”

“Whoa,” Malthazor draws out the ‘o’ in whoa for a lot longer than Shane would like, “Are you kidding me?! Lot-?! Are you outta your _mind_? There’s no way I’m going to approve that! Much less-!”

“I’m not _asking_ you to approve it,” Shane returns simply, “I’d just like to see if it’s possible. It’s not like I’d take him there on a _busy_ night. I’d just…I’d like to give him a little something more than canned voices and cold spots. His birthday’s coming up and-”

“Oh, well if it’s his _birthday_!” Malthazor interrupts snidely but Shane just pushes on like he didn’t speak, “-I was thinking something a little different than the random bits we toss out as ‘proof’ might be nice.”

“So, let me get this straight, you want me to see about getting you approval to take your human to a highly active supernatural hotspot?”

Shane rubs at his eyes, “I told you – he’s _not_ my human. He’s my friend.”

Malthazor groans, “Christ, low levels…you guys always have such soft spots for humans. Make friends with them. Why not just go ahead and side with the Holy Legion, huh? You could be in Heaven right now, snooting it up.”

Now Shane really _is_ offended, “I am _not_ one of those angel douches, alright? I’m not just sitting around on my laureled wings! I’m just a salt of the earth demon like the rest of you! But if I…if I have a bit of a, y’know, predilection for the bipeds and one in particular, well…”

This gets Shane the side-eye, “He _is_ just a friend, right? ‘Cause, I mean, you wouldn’t be the first demon to spend too much time with a human and get the _feelings_ ,” Malthazor air quotes this last word and Shane’s mouth turns down in a definitive frown, “I’m not in love with him.”

As the words come out he ignores how his neck and face heat, reasoning that it’s his annoyance more than anything, “For fuck’s sake – you guys always make it so – so _sexual_. It’s not like that. We’re friends. Period.”

Malthazor holds up his hands in apology, “Fine, fine. Just saying...what you’re asking for. There’s no way I can sign off on it.”

“Okay, but…what if you _didn’t_ sign off on it,” Shane rests his long arms on his even longer legs, expression crafty, “What if–and this is just a what if–but what if we just…happened to wander in there on a slow night. What would happen?”

Malthazor sits back in his chair and he can’t help but look somewhat impressed, “You’re willing to take that kind of risk? For a friend?”

Shane just splays out his hands in front of him in the universal gesture of ‘sure, why not?’ and Malthazor rubs one finger under his lip, “It’s a gamble. A big one.”

“That’s me, a gambling man,” Shane returns with far more confidence than he actually feels. The demon across from him shifts about in his seat, “Well, I suppose – I mean, if we’re just talking hypothetically…”

“Hypothetically, of course.”

“Yes, hypothetically, you _could_ probably swing through Lot Forty Seven this Monday night with no alarms raised. You might and I stress, _might_ , even pick up more than just some random one word note on a spirit box.”

“So like, more than two words?”

“Maybe even a whole sentence,” Malthazor looks at him with raised eyebrows, “Granted, there should be some…compensation…”

Shane expected this and reaches into his jacket pocket. He withdraws a glowing bottle and Malthazor’s eyes glitter greedily, “Is that what I think it is?”

“I don’t know,” Shane rolls the bottle through his long fingers with more dexterity than he’s ever shown Ryan, “If you think its distilled soul essence, you wouldn’t be wrong.”

“How-?”

“Legacy, remember? I have some connections. Just…not ones I can use for the Lot. So? Do we have a deal?”

Malthazor holds out a hand and Shane swears he can see his palm _sweating_. He hands over the bottle and Malthazor clutches it to himself like it’s a priceless treasure, “Monday. Two a.m. sharp. Get him out before three.”

Shane tilts his head in acknowledgement and gets to his feet. Malthazor’s still clutching the bottle, almost hyper reflexively, but his voice is stern, “I mean it, Madej! Get him out before three a.m.”

“Yeah, yeah – I know the drill. Sheesh,” Shane mutters as he leaves the office, practically whistling. He makes sure to give another wink to Judy as he leaves.

 

+

 

Ryan looks skeptical and Shane gets it, he really does, but he continues to push his case, “I mean, the activity is very recent, but it’s worth checking out, right?”

“I don’t know, man – our viewers like sites steeped in history. Besides, I thought you didn’t believe in this stuff.”

“Oh, I don’t,” Shane laughs, “But you do and some of them do and I thought it might be a nice change of pace. Not to mention you can think of it as a birthday gift! After all, _I_ did the research on this one.”

This gets him a wistful smile and Shane ignores how much he eats the sight up, like he eats up every smile Ryan gives him. Fuck. That’s…weird, right? Not very human-y. Certainly much more than just friendship-y. He shouldn’t care if he’s responsible for Ryan’s smiles. Still, not many demons can say they’ve brought that expression to a mortal’s face.

Not that Ryan knows Shane’s a demon. How can he? He’s a believer, but not _that_ much of one. He’s like every other human who talks a big game about having faith in the supernatural. Oh, they like the _idea_ of it. They might even think they’ve found some evidence of it. But, in the end, the supernatural can be staring them right in the face and they don’t really _see_ it.

Which is great, to be honest, because it’s how their community can continue to thrive. Shane is just like every other demon, ghost, and extraordinary entity out there. He likes his privacy. He likes the curtain of disbelief that hangs over all humanity, even the ones that claim otherwise. So, it’s kind of funny that he’s willing to pull back that curtain, even just a little, for Ryan.

But Ryan’s been a good friend to him and he feels like, in some respects, he owes him. Shane has a great job, he gets to interact with mostly non-boring humans on a daily basis and _food_. God, if there’s one thing Hell does not offer; its great food. Food is, hands down, the best accomplishment of the human race. Especially popcorn. And hot dogs.

Damn, now he’s hungry.

“Still, isn’t it a bit insensitive? I mean, the deaths were pretty fucked up and these hauntings are fairly recent.”

“You consider the late 90’s recent? If you do, I got some bad news for you on what year this is…”

Ryan huffs, “Okay, it’s been more than a decade.”

“Closer to two,” Shane corrects and Ryan acknowledges it, “Closer to two, but it’s still more recent than most things we cover.”

Shane makes a disbelieving sound, “Not really. What about New Orleans? That was _way_ more recent.”

“True…”

“Look, we’ll just approach this one way more somberly.”

“You? Somber?”

“I’m not a _monster_ , Bergara,” _That you know of_ , he doesn’t add, “I’m capable of tact. I’ve displayed it before, haven’t I? On some of the true crimes with more recent dates?”

“I suppose,” Ryan waffles some, “But this is different. Again, this isn’t an unsolved crime we’re looking at, this is a _haunting._ ”

“I’m not saying we go in guns blazing. In fact, I don’t think we should even film it,” this gets him the side eye but he rushes on, “At least not yet. I was thinking something more low key. We’ll go – just you and me – to scope the site. I can bring the handheld, you can bring the spirit box, we get a feel for the place…”

He trails off, hopes it’s enticing enough. Ryan’s eyes get all squinty with thought before he finally releases a deep sigh while bobbing his head, “Well, yeah,” then more firmly, “Yeah, yeah I…I think it’d be okay. At least for us to check out.”

“Awesome,” Shane says with heartfelt relish, “You won’t regret this, I swear!”

“It’s so weird to me that _you’re_ pushing this. You’re just planning on taking me out there to goad the ghosts into attacking me, aren’t you?”

“Ryan!” Shane gasps with over the top shock, “I would never!”

Ryan just waves him off, “I’m just saying; you seem awful eager for me to go to a place where people have been murdered.”

“What are you trying to say? That I want to murder you there? Normally you’re the one pushing me to go to all these old death spots,” Shane eyes him suspiciously, “Now that I think about it, maybe that’s why you’re on edge. The tables have turned. Maybe _you’ve_ always been trying to murder _me_ , but now the shoe is on the other foot.”

Ryan struggles to speak, wheezing with amusement before he manages to get out, “Stop-stop with the metaphors.”

“Those aren’t metaphors.”

“They’re not?”

“No, they’re just sayings.”

“Then stop with the-with the ‘sayings’. It’s not like that! The places I take you, I take you for the good of the show and the views.”

“Then that’s what this is,” Shane argues and then he softens considerably, feeling uncharacteristically sensitive, “I just…thought it might be nice to do something for you. For your birthday.”

An awkward silence settles between them and Shane looks down at his feet. Ryan’s the first to speak up, “That’s…that _is_ nice, man. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

The silence happens again and they both clear their throats and do the odd shuffle of two men who have had a more emotional-than-usual conversation. This time Shane speaks first, “I was thinking we could go tonight? Get there at two.”

“Two? In the afternoon?”

“No, morning.”

“Then that’s not night.”

“Would you just-!” Shane grunts and rubs at his face and the moment of silly banter seems to finally break the strange bubble between them. Ryan laughs and Shane laughs and it’s nice and companionable again. Shane’s lips quirk up in a half smile, “Pick you up at eleven? That should get us there about two.”

“Sounds good.”

 

+

 

What is referred to as Lot Forty Seven by the supernatural community is, to a human’s point of view, nothing more than a mild-mannered shipyard. There are large metal shipping containers, big random lights, loads of commercial vehicles and huge ships tethered to the nearby docks.

It’s closed off to public access and often left relatively abandoned for several hours at a time. Therefore, it’s the perfect place for an invisible dimensional veil. Paranormal beings of all kinds flock to this area, cross the veil, and enter into a shopping community the likes of which few can imagine. Well, Shane supposes it’s not all _that_ different from a mortal bazaar – if a mortal bazaar sold things like ectomorphic residue and human heart veins.

Currently the Lot is pumping out a decent amount of volume, but isn’t _too_ occupied, making it the perfect time to stop by. After all, Shane knows exactly why Malthazor warned him about three. Three is, almost universally, the time higher level demons show up to do their purchases. The supernatural world has a surprisingly rigid hierarchy and one of its number one rules is to not mess with entities above your station.

It’s best to offer deference to levels above your own. Anything else is viewed as a challenge and challenges only ever end in one of two ways. Either you win and rise in level or you lose and are snuffed out. And being snuffed out is something _beyond_ death – it’s non-existence and no one wants _that_.

Okay, so…again, not _entirely_ true. Some demons and otherworldly creatures revel in that. They love absorbing and collecting power from the ones they snuff, they love climbing up the ladder. Shane is _not_ one of these. He likes where he is (thank you very much) and has no interest in moving up.

So, he’s more than happy to ease Ryan in and out before three hits. Hell, the only reason he’s even cutting it this close is because the Lot is prepping for the big boys’ arrival, making it a shoe-in for Ryan to pick up something worthwhile on the spirit box.

And as far as Ryan knows, this is a supernatural hotspot because six dock workers were found horribly mutilated here and it was said their ghosts still haunt the site, looking for vengeance. There are several theories surrounding their unusual deaths. The Mob, some government experiment gone wrong, the beginnings of a serial killer who just never escalated and so on.

Naturally, Shane knows the _real_ reason, but he’s not going to share it with Ryan. Mainly because it is deeply set within demonic territory. Apparently one of the dock workers had a proclivity for seeing the paranormal. It’s a very, _very_ rare trait. Honestly, most people who have it don’t even know they do until they ended up like this guy – dead. And that’s the simple truth of it – the dock worker could see through the veil, the demons noticed – they killed him. And subsequently all his co-workers, because it was simply like – blood in the water.

Once the first dock worker was devoured, the others followed suit. Blood and soul hit the air and everyone just got so…hungry. To be honest, it was a notoriously messy and embarrassing affair. Some talked about shutting down the Lot and it had been for a time but, eventually, it rose back up. The widely accepted theory involving the mob took root in the human conscious and with no further deaths; everything went back to status quo.

After all, unless something is persistently passed around, humans just…forget. They have a notoriously short attention span, so, the murders and the Lot were pretty much forgotten save the occasional whisper, which is what Shane’s used to lure Ryan here.  They find getting permission to enter the shipyard easy (thank you, Malthazor) and start towards the Lot.

Ryan can’t see what Shane does. The bright lights, the ghosts drifting by with their packages, the bustling stalls. He can’t smell the acrid chemicals and sharp tangs of items not from this plane of existence. But he seems happy enough and Shane can’t help but smile, happy to see Ryan looking so…normal. So human.

Shane’s sure all he sees are dark shadows and containers and he’s got his flashlight out. He looks a little nervous, but mostly game as he casts his light about, “Do you think it was about here that they found the dock workers?”

“Probably,” Shane returns, drawing out the camera and focusing it on Ryan, “Do you want me to do your theory voice and explain what happened here?”

Ryan lets out a world weary sigh at that, but just nods.

“It was October 1998,” Shane begins in a gravelly interpretation of Ryan’s ‘theory’ voice, “A dock worker by the name of Henry Johnson heard strange sounds. Considering the time of night, he thought it might be some form of trespassing or burglary, so he called out to five of his nearby associates. What happened next is lost to history, but the following day he, and the bodies of his comrades, were discovered dismembered in grisly fashion.”

Ryan can’t help but speak up, “Aren’t _all_ dismemberments grisly?”

“I’m sure there are some clean ones,” Shane supplies cheerfully, “Like, if you have anatomical knowledge and you wanted to take someone apart, I imagine it could be very tidy.”

“When has anyone ever done that ever?”

Shane just shrugs and then picks back up with the overly theatrical voice, “When authorities arrived on the scene several questions were raised, as no clear evidence was present. No fingerprints, no signs of the weapons used – nothing that could explain why these men were so brutally slain. All that is known is that the area is said to hold the haunted spirits of those who died here.”

By this point Ryan is starting to look a little spooked and, as always, Shane starts to take some pity on him. Pity, but also an evil kind of glee. Hey, he _is_ a demon. Human fear is, well, _funny_. But still, he can’t help but ask gently, “Do you want me to keep going?”

“It depends on what you’re going to say next.”

“I was just going to cover what people have reported happened here to say it’s quote unquote ‘haunted’.”

“Go ahead,” Ryan huffs and Shane beams, “They say the air has a feel of dread to it. There've been reports of rushed footsteps, eerier whispers – one security guard swears he felt a clawed hand knock his hat off, but when he turned to see the perpetrator, no one was there. And I stress ‘clawed’ hand. That was in his actual description. Not a human hand, but one with _actual_ claws. Like, oh, a bear’s maybe?”

“Fuck you,” Ryan bites out but with clear affection and Shane laughs, the camera jostling a little under his actions, “What? Maybe it’s a demon bear?”

“Wh-? Why would you say that?” Ryan looks so adorably upset that Shane can’t help but grin from ear to ear (even as he internally debates the use of the word ‘adorably’), “Well, they were ripped apart. Some people thought the mob was involved. Maybe they were smuggling a bear or something.”

Ryan glares at him and Shane’s on cloud nine, “OR maybe it’s the government experiment gone wrong scenario! Yeah, maybe they were experimenting on bears – had one stored here, it broke loose…”

“You’re an asshole. You know that, right?”

They both are laughing though, grinning like fools, as they continue their walk through the shipyard. They’re deep in now and Shane takes a quick peek at his watch. It’s still early, but best not to risk it. He licks his lips and decides to get it over with, “Alright, alright. How’s about you pull out the spirit box, huh? Get a read?”

Ryan nods and draws the device out. The box squeaks and squawks and Ryan speaks to the air, “Spirits – if you can hear us, say something.”

“Yeah!” Shane shouts loudly, ignoring the looks he’s getting from patrons around the Lot, “Communicate with us, you dumb fucks!”

“Holy shit,” Ryan chokes on a chuckle as Shane continues, “You out there, Henry? Or maybe you, Yogi! You got something to say? Or roar?”

“‘Yogi?’” Ryan repeats and Shane turns the camera to himself, “It’s a bear name.”

“It’s _not_ a bear name!”

“Sure it is! I can’t just call him Joe! He’s a bear, he’s gotta have a bear name! Like Yogi or Winnie!”

"Stop trying to summon a bear! Ghost or demon or otherwise I’m drawing a line in the sand on this one, because it wasn’t a _bear_.”

“How do you know it wasn’t-?”

“Look just shut up, we can’t even hear if anything is coming through,” Ryan mutters and Shane just smiles. The patrons are ignoring them now and the box is picking up nothing past the normal white noise. Shane’s lips start to turn down. He looks at Ryan and knows his friend is going to turn off the box soon. Shit! He was hoping they’d pick up _something_.

He looks around and sees a nearby vendor. He also spots a big open shipping container. He taps his fingers on the camera, then coughs, “I, uh, I got an idea.”

Ryan looks at him expectantly and Shane gestures to the container, “How about you get in there.”

“WHAT,” Ryan deadpans it so loudly that he catches attention and Shane comes closer, voice lowered, “Yeah, maybe you’ll get something better from a more…secluded place.”

“Secluded-? I thought they were killed out in the open!”

“Yeah, but near these containers.”

“Shane, I doubt it’s the _same_ containers. It’s been years since-!”

“I think it’s worth a shot,” Shane returns briskly, “Come on. You go in, spend a couple of minutes with the spirit box. Then I go in. The usual song and dance.”

His friend twists about for a few moments before nodding, much to Shane’s relief. The duo approaches a container and once Ryan’s in with the large metal door shut behind him, Shane’s off. He hustles over to a nearby vendor and asks, “Look, can I get a favor?”

The vendor (a friggin’ djinn of all things) looks less than impressed, but does tip his head to one side indicating he’s listening. Shane continues, “Great! I’m going to bring that guy over there outta that big box and could you just, uh, could you maybe shout out like ‘run for your life’ or ‘get out before it’s too late’ or something?”

“Why?” is the raspy question and Shane reaches deep into one of his jean’s pockets, drawing out some coins. He sets them up on the nearby stand and the Djinn eyes them, “Hmm, spirit chips?”

Shane nods even as the Djinn takes one and tests it between his sharp teeth. His eyes glitter with approval, “Young. Fresh. Good.”

“So? Can you help a demon out?”

The djinn hums in agreement and Shane sketches a graceful bow. He turns and rushes to let Ryan out, who, as he always does when left alone, looks frazzled, “Dude, it was creepy in there.”

“I’m sure. My turn?” Shane asks, but even as he asks the spirit box starts to go nuts, “- _fzzzzt_ -OUT- _fzzzt_!”

Ryan looks at the box as if it’s a time bomb ticking down, “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Shane asks oh, so innocently despite how pleased he is.

“Listen!” Ryan hisses and he holds up the box, “ _Fzzzzzzzt_ -OUT- _fzzzt_ - _grgfzt_ -FAST!”

“I heard ‘out’ and ‘fast’! Like… get out fast?” Ryan asks and the box just squeaks and hisses louder, “ _Grgtz_ -OUT- _ragraga_ -FAST-GGGEe- _fszzzT_ -PRETTY ONE.”

Ryan draws back, face scrunched up in confusion, "'Pretty one’? Did-did I just hear ‘pretty one’?”

Shane wants to swipe a hand down his face. God fucking damn _djinns_. He glares in the direction of the one in question, who does the most annoying little wave. All fingers waggling as if to say ‘yes, I _did_ just call your friend ‘pretty one’. Fucking cheap ass paranormal garbage better keep his hands off Shane’s...and now he _does_ wipe a hand down his face because Ryan is not his _anything_.

Well, other than friend.

Ryan is his _friend_.

It might seem like a strange concept to most creatures that go bump in the night, but they can be friends with humans. They can be just friends and nothing else. In fact, many of them are, that’s a well-known fact. But it’s also a well-known fact that a lot of supernatural creatures seek out something more…amorous.

Mainly because they’re a…passionate species. And humans carry so much vitality, so much _life,_ and their souls, well…

But Ryan is just Shane’s friend. He doesn’t believe in any of that romantic mumbo jumbo crap. Ryan is his friend. Not his human, not his claimed, and certainly not his bonded. Just friend. His friend who looks super stoked, “Dude, that’s more than we’ve ever gotten before!”

He pauses, frowning at the box, “Even if it’s a little weird…”

“Yeah, weird,” Shane agrees, wishing he could turn around and flip the djinn the finger without looking strange, “I mean, I don’t know if _I_ heard anything concrete, but…”

“No, man, I heard it. It was there! Definitive proof!”

“Well, I don’t know about ‘definitive’,” Shane volleys back but he’s smiling anyway, because this is pretty much exactly what he wanted. A nice gift for Ryan. A feather in his cap. And now is as good a time as any to go, so he pushes at him, “But maybe we can come back later with the full crew and get something internet-worthy.”

Ryan looks so overjoyed by the idea he doesn’t even remember that Shane offered to step in the container too, nor does he comment on how he’s damn near being herded towards the exit. Instead he’s babbling excitedly about coming back and filming a full episode here and oh boy; isn’t that rich? Because Shane knows they won’t be back. This was a one way trip and while he hates to disappoint Ryan later, he knows the memory of tonight’s ‘definitive’ proof will stick with him.

Even if the ‘proof’ will always be ‘get out fast pretty one’. Damn djinn.

“ _Whoa_! Check it out!” Ryan points up and Shane sees a ball of light. A red ball of light. Shit. Shane’s blood runs cold as the first ball is followed by a second and what the fuck? It’s not even close to three! He checks his watch again and fuck, fuck, fuck – are they early? What the fuck? It’s not like demons are punctuality freaks but shit, shit, _fuck_!

“Probably fireflies, Ryan, let’s just-!”

“Fireflies? Dude, what kind of fireflies look like that? Come on, get a good shot of them with your camera, you know some people see lights at haunted-”

“ _Ryan_!” Shane’s voice is so harsh, so serious, that Ryan’s head whips to him with concern, “We need to go. Now.”

“Shane? What the fuck? Why are you so-?”

Shane watches as the lights…settle. Even more vicious expletives explode in his mind as the lights start to take shape and Ryan is focused on him right now (thank fuck) so he’s not seeing the lights morph and grow and Shane hates doing this, he really does. He hardly, ever, ever does this, because he respects his friend enough not to, but for his own safety…

Shane takes Ryan’s face in his hands and before Ryan can say another word Shane’s eyes…change. They become full inky black and Ryan goes rigid as Shane purrs in a demonic echo, “You want to go back in the container. You want to go to sleep.”

“I want to go back in the container. I want to go to sleep.” Ryan repeats like a robot, completely under Shane’s influence. He turns and goes straight back into the container, shutting the door behind himself. Shane rubs at his eyes as relief washes over him. He follows after Ryan, resting his back against the big container door.

He does his best to look totally nonchalant as the lights finish forming into two full-fledged level five demons. If Shane just stands here and keeps his head down, he’s sure there won’t be a problem. He just needs to wait this out. The two demons aren’t even in anything close to human form. Their jaws hang at odd angles, mouths full of thousands of long, sharp needle-like teeth. Horns sprout out all over their bodies like thorns and their wings are twisted and grotesque.

Black beady eyes cover several spots as well, clustered together in some spots like spider’s eyes and they’re hunched over – legs and arms too long, hands and feet nothing but razor claws.

They look the very picture of nightmares and while Shane knows they _can_ take on human forms, he knows they won’t. They’re clearly having a nice night out being in their natural ‘skin’ and hopefully they’ll just be in and out when one of them sort of lifts his head and…sniffs.

Shane sees the action, does his best to keep his head down and show the respect due, but _fuck_ ; this is _not_ a good sign. More so when the one that sniffed moves closer to him and his buddy follows suit. They approach Shane and the one who sniffed the air ‘speaks’, voice thundering through Shane’s mind, “What’s in the box?”

 _Gwyneth Paltrow’s head_? Is his first snarky answer but instead he says, “Dumb dock worker fell asleep in there. I’ve got an eye on him, so, you guys can go about your business, make your purchases...”

“His soul…sweet,” the demon returns, dragging out the last word for a ridiculous amount of time. So much so that Shane would roll his eyes if he didn’t know it would incite this monster to rip them out, “Yeah, but not worth the hassle. Don’t want to raise any alarms, right? Don’t want the Lot shut down.”

“No one will miss one soul,” the second one supplies, his voice having this odd sort of shunting feel to it and Shane realizes they’re trying to influence him. They’re trying to make him move. They want in. He stands his ground, “Yeah, but I mean, a human turns up missing. There’s an investigation, red tape.”

“They won’t notice. _Move_.”

“Aw, come on, guys,” Shane feels sweat break out on his brow, “You…you don’t really want me to-?”

“Grasolib has spoken,” the first demon hisses and Shane winces as he feels ripples of Grasolib’s power shower over him. Level fives…always so…pushy. Shane can’t ignore this guy’s energy and yet, “Y-yeah, you did. But um, there are plenty of soul shards for sale. Heck, as a level five do you even _need_ to purchase them? Bet there are loads for free for you down in Hell and it’s not like you really want to go through the trouble of killing this mortal, breaking his soul up and devouring it and-and-“

His words stall as Grasolib lowers himself and some of his eyes look directly into Shane’s, “Are you challenging me, little one?”

“Little level one,” the other demon huffs darkly, “So weak. So small. No match for us.”

"Hazothor speaks true.”

“Grasolib,” Shane regards the one that just spoke, then the other nearest him, “Hazothor. Gr-great to meet you, guys. Nothing but respect for you and yours and…and I have no wish to challenge upper echelons like yourselves-”

“Then MOVE!” Grasolib thunders and he bodily shoves Shane aside with enough force to knock him into other nearby containers. Shane eventually hits with a loud thud, body screaming with pain as Grasolib’s long claws tear through the metal before him like its paper and Ryan’s in there and-!

The sound that escapes Shane is unrecognizable to his own ears. His horns, wings, and tail appear in a flash and his eyes are jet black, tongue turning prehensile as he snarls, “No!”

Grasolib and Hazothor shoot him furious looks and Grasolib, one clawed hand still in the container just – just tosses the big metal box aside. He sends it flying through the shipyard like a toy and Shane knows Ryan is still in there and for a fragile human body to be trapped inside that rolling hunk of metal! He doesn’t even remember what happens next.

Suddenly he’s just completely blinded with pure rage and potential grief and the next thing he knows he’s fighting two level fives. Everything in him, everything that resembles even a remotely human-like thought or sensibility turns off and he’s completely demon. His own jaw elongates, fangs sharp and full and he’s biting and scratching with his claws and there’s pain and blood and hideous amounts of violence.

The few supernatural creatures around the Lot do their best to avoid the fray, a full out challenge taking place before their very eyes. Shane struggles in the onslaught. both demons coming at him from different angles - claws biting into his flesh, blood spraying through the air. He decides the best course of action is to focus on just one of them and this is where he gets his lucky break, curling in for just the right strike at Hazothor. His fangs dig deep into the other demon’s jugular – pulling and tearing and snapping and suddenly the other beast is smited. His form combusts and the energy from it flows into Shane.

Grasolib, who clearly did not expect his pal to be defeated by a lowly level one, howls and the sound is akin to a tornado at full steam. A sound Shane easily returns as Grasolib may or may not be responsible for Ryan’s death and the two demons come to blows again and this time – with just the odds of one on one as opposed to two on one – Shane is easily victorious.

He rents Grasolib apart limb by limb and once the level five is smited, he too melts away, energy transferring easily and this is right when Shane’s more human consciousness returns. He pants, black eyes slowly turning back to human and he’s…covered in blood. A lot of blood. Blood so deeply crimson as to be black and his fingers slowly morph from claws back into fingers and his horns start to withdraw, wings folding in and the spectators around the Lot come forward.

The djinn from earlier looks at him with awe, saying with hushed reverence, “You…have risen.”

Shane groans and rubs at his eyes as a headache starts to form. Shit, no. No, no, no…

A level one killing a five? Not impossible, but pretty damn close. A level one killing _two_ fives? Absorbing their energy?  Shane shakes his head to himself as he quickly marches towards the crumpled metal container. It was seeing this get tossed that completely fucked him over and his thoughts immediately shift back to worry and to Ryan and he just knows he’s going to go into the container and find his friend broken and dead inside.

He flies up and in and when he sees Ryan, he comes to the conclusion that while Ryan _is_ broken, he’s not dead. He’s an unconscious heap in the ruined mess – limbs at odd angles, clearly broken, but he’s breathing. For now. Shane looks at him and he just – he _knows_. Ryan’s alive for now, but not for long. He'll probably never wake up again and if he gets taken to a hospital, they'll just shake their heads and say he only has a little time left.

Shane’s eyes heat and this is such complete horseshit. He just wanted to do something nice for his friend’s birthday and he never meant for this to happen and he didn’t…

His grief, horror, and anger suddenly give way to an awful, clear clarity. He challenged and defeated two fives. He absorbed their energies. Shane knows what that means. What he can do.

…Ryan will hate him if he ever finds out.

 _He won’t_ , his thoughts vow as he reaches up and pricks at his forehead with one claw. He does the same to Ryan and then presses their foreheads together. He starts reciting the ancient incantations and an eerie blue light passes between them, around them, through them. Ryan’s body instantly starts to knit itself back together again.

Once he’s fully repaired and breathing easily, Shane just looks down at him. Ryan looks for all the world like he just fell asleep in the center of chaos and Shane? Shane’s just…defeated, “What have I done?”

His question reverberates around him in the ruined container with no answer. Shane sits there for a while, head in his hands while Ryan sleeps the wonderful sleep of the unknowing. Eventually Shane gets with the program, letting his red, leathery wings return. He easily picks up Ryan and flies them both away.

 

+

 

Ryan huffs sleepily and cracks open his eyes. He feels…funny. He stretches and realizes he’s in the passenger side of Shane’s car. He turns to his friend and Shane looks tired. There are lines on his face and Ryan frowns, mumbling drowsily, “Hey man, you a’ight?”

Shane just hums and Ryan looks around to see his apartment out front, “I fall asleep?”

“Yeah. Like a baby,” Shane mutters, “We went to the shipyard. You heard your ghosty friends. Then you conked out in the car.”

“I did?” Ryan asks and Shane just hums again. And something’s…off. He doesn’t remember getting in the car. Hell, he doesn’t even remember leaving the yard and Shane…there’s something different about Shane.

Ryan can’t put his finger on what and he decides he’s still just tired from falling asleep in an uncomfortable car. His whole body feels off kilter too. Like it’s…buzzing. Yeah, he’s just tired and he opens the door, “Well, thanks for driving me home, man. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See you,” Shane returns but almost lifelessly and Ryan feels like maybe he should ask more about it. But he’s just…he feels too _off_ right now. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, after he’s gotten a good amount of sleep. That’s when he’ll talk to Shane. He’s sure everything is fine. Why wouldn’t it be? Ryan walks up to his place, unaware that Shane watches him the entire time. Unaware that his entire life is about to change significantly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated tags

Shane moves sluggishly through his apartment. The glamor he used before Ryan woke still holds and he reaches into his jacket to take out the little circular disc. Glamors! Never leave home without them! What a joke. He snaps the disc neatly in two between his claws and his true bloody self is restored.

He knows he’ll have to get a call into Clean Up. He’s never had to use the service before, but tonight warrants it. Someone will have to go into Ryan’s home and replace his clothing and boy, wasn’t it lucky Ryan is under his influence enough not to see that?

Not to see all the blood all over Shane and all over himself because, yeah, Ryan looked just as rough as he does. Well…maybe not as rough. After all, Ryan didn’t kill two demons. Ryan had just been covered in his own blood and god, that’s a sight Shane won’t shake anytime soon. His friend dying in a tangled heap and he'd had no choice, right? Doing what he did and fuck, he can’t think about this right now.

He’ll get in touch with Clean Up after he takes a shower and he enters his bathroom to catch sight of himself in a mirror and – yikes. His red horns curve up and out from the thick wave of his dark hair and his eyes are still bottomless black pits. There are tears on his wings and he winces at the feel of them. The back of his plaid shirt and jean jacket have been ruined beyond repair thanks to the emergence of his wings, just another drop in the bucket of shit that his life has become.

Dammit…he _liked_ this shirt and jacket. He removes both and then takes stock of his claws. They’re long and pointed and still have bits of foreign flesh on them. Much the same for his fangs and he opens his mouth to see the damage.

Unlike the demons he fought, he doesn’t have thousands of teeth. His set is much like a human’s, save for the fact that they’re all curved and pointed. Incisors, canines, bicuspids, molars – all sharp and deadly and currently coated in demon blood, chunks of viscera caught between the fangs like bits of spinach. Gross. He spits it all into the sink and grimaces at the sight of the white, spotless porcelain being stained red and black.

The same red and black that coats his chin, his neck, his chest. He strips off his jeans and that’s right – his damned tail made an appearance as well – so that’s him saying goodbye to the jeans. Underwear too. Wonderful. A whole outfit down the drain and is that what he’s really worried about right now? Naked, he climbs into the shower and hisses as cold water meets his skin, steam billowing from it because that’s just par for the course.

He’s a demon – he runs hot. Especially after a battle. It’s like dipping a scalding pan into dish water and soon the room fills with humid fog. Everything washes off, swirling and pooling around the drain and Shane’s still _exhausted_. Considering he absorbed the essences of two level fives, he should feel like he’s on top of the (under)world, but he knows exactly why he doesn’t feel that way.

His life had had a perfect rhythm and now? Now it’s fucked beyond repair. He breathes out and closes his eyes, grunting lightly as he draws back on his cloak of false humanity. His horns disappear back into his hair, his tail and wings retreat back into his body, and his claws form human fingers.

When he opens his eyes they’re the normal hue and water clumps on his eyelashes as he rests his forehead against the tile, wishing he could turn back time.

 

+

 

Shane enters the DMV and the moment he moves to the counter Judy’s head dips down in respect. An irrational stab of hurt hits him and he ignores it, doing his best for his normal levity, “Hey Judge Judy and executioner.”

“Mr. Madej,” she greets with the utmost professionalism, eyes downcast as would be his proper due as a higher level, but he’s – he’s not. He’s _not_. He tries again, “You got a number for me to take or-?”

She finally does look up, but with a startled air, “Oh no! Of course not, sir!”

The ‘sir’ really does him in and his whole body sags, “Ah, come on, Judy. I’m still _me_. Nothing’s changed.”

She ignores him and goes straight for the red phone. God, not the _red_ phone. Talk about cliché. He blurts, “Not that one!”

She stops and he sees her hand shake and he hates everything, “I’m…I’m perfectly alright with the blue. Please, Judy?”

He says the last in a cute, almost jokey way. She finally does look at him and her over-the-top coiffure of bluish black hair is trembling like the rest of her, “Y-you’re sure, Mister-?”

“It’s Shane,” he insists, “Judy, I know word gets around fast, but I’m…I’m not all that different.”

She looks so unconvinced he has to ask, “Am I?”

Her lips sort of twitch and he realizes he _is_ different. Or at least he must be to a…lower level. He pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t feel any different, but to one of them? God, he knows how it feels to be around a three or a four or…maybe it’s better to say he _knew_ how it felt.

He sucks in a loud breath and releases his nose, hands busying themselves with the pockets of his hoodie as he murmurs, “Just…can you use the blue phone?”

“Of course, Mister-”

“ _Shane_.”

She nods, “Of course, Shane.”

She picks up the blue phone and once again has to wait for someone to stop talking on the other end before saying primly, “I’ve got Shane Madej here.”

This time even Shane can hear the person on the other side, a loud squawk of ‘what?’ followed by rapid fire words albeit this time a little harder for him to pick up on. Judy cuts in smoothly, “Phil, he requested I use this line.”

“See if Michael’s available. I think we clicked on an, y’know, elemental level,” Shane pipes in and just for a moment Judy shoots him an annoyed look that makes him feel as if everything will be alright. As if everything can just go back to the way it was. But the look is washed away quickly as she listens to Phil go on and on before interrupting, “He’s asking for Michael. Okay, good. I’ll-? Yes, yes, of course. Bye.”

Judy hangs up and rises from her seat and Shane doesn’t know if he’s ever seen her rise from it. Honestly, he secretly always thought she might be chained to it, but she gets to her feet and straightens her little dress before walking around to meet him, “Right this way.”

“I know where the door is. You don’t have to-!” but his words fall on deaf ears as she bustles over to the door and holds it open for him like he’s some dignitary. He scowls as he walks through it and the expression stays in place when he enters Malthazor’s office and the guy’s standing at attention. He even _bows_ , “Ah, Mr. Madej! What a pleasure it is to see you again, sir!”

Shane slumps into the chair in front of his desk, “Look, cut it with that crap, okay? I’m the same demon you saw last time.”

Malthazor makes a sound that suggests otherwise and Shane’s mood continues to sour. Malthazor takes his seat and links his fingers together in front of him on his desk, dark eyes glittering, “Let me just say, sir, I’m honored you’ve chosen to return to me to help you handle your affairs. When most demons ascend, they’re chomping at the bit to use the red phone, so the fact you’ve entrusted me is, it’s just-!” he sort of trails off here, looking too overcome to form words and Shane sighs heavily, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands.

When he manages to compose himself, Malthazor picks up from a completely different tack, “Although I imagine it may have something to do with my helping you in your coup and might I say, sir, it was a brilliant move on your part to use your human and his birthday as a ploy to put yourself in the right place at the right time.”

“It wasn’t a _ploy_ ,” Shane snaps, head rising from his hands, “And I wasn’t planning a coup. What is this? The French Revolution? You said get him out before three and I was doing that, when suddenly two level fives show up and everything goes sideways, I mean, I didn’t-! I don’t even know how-?”

And it looks like Shane’s a little overwhelmed himself now as he groans, twitching in his seat and he absolutely despises this. He’s normally so collected and calm and now he’s just as twitchy as Ryan can be. Malthazor turns to his computer and taps a couple of keys, “Mmm, yes, I suppose you would have questions about the demons you smited and might I say, that was a tour de force! I mean, no offense, but to look at you, one wouldn’t think ‘this guy's a fighter’ but the way you tackled those two…”

Shane breathes in loudly, “Honestly, I don’t even remember. It all happened so fast…”

“Fast?” Malthazor laughs, “That’s not what I saw on the spectral web feed.”

“The...?” Shane can’t even manage to repeat it and Malthazor waves to his computer. Shane gets up and walks around the desk. The spectral web feed is pretty much the internet for the supernatural, but with heavily written code. As such, you’d have to be supernatural to see or access it. Malthazor has it pulled up now and there it is; a big report on the brawl at the Lot.

There’s a video attached and Shane points to it, asking softly, ‘Could you just-?’ and Malthazor nods, pushing the play button. The video is shaky, clearly taken from a cell, but it’s definitely Shane in his demon form. The sounds leaving him are inhuman as he attacks Grasolib and his buddy is moving in and Shane doesn’t remember any of this. They have him pinned down at one point – biting and clawing, ripping into his wings – damn near tearing them apart.

His hand goes reflexively back towards his shoulder, as if to check and see if his wings are alright and there. And while they’re not currently out, he knows they’re fine, tucked away and safe. Hazothor’s teeth sink into Shane’s left side and Shane’s right hand digs deep into the demon’s face, trying to claw him off. It’s a brutal moment and he damn well looks like he’s about to lose when there’s a shift and suddenly he’s wrested himself lose and turned to launch himself at Hazthor’s throat.

Hazthor tries to shake him off as he latches on, but he’s dug in deep and vicious and then the other demon just snaps and blurs away to nothing and Grasolib is tossing him about, knocking him into nearby stands and sending debris everywhere and Shane’s shaking his head, “I really don’t remember this.”

“It’s understandable,” Malthazor offers chummily, “You probably went berserk.”

“I didn’t go berserk. I’m not Wolverine.”

“Who?”

Shane doesn’t bother to explain, “I just…they were after Ryan and when Grasolib tossed that container I knew he might’ve…that he probably killed…” Shane just closes his eyes and shakes his head, “I don’t know. I snapped.”

“Went beserk,” Malthazor corrects, “It happens. Many demons have. In fact, that brings us to the matters of your ascension, if you would please-?”

He motions to the chair Shane vacated and Shane resumes it as Malthazor draws out some papers, clearing his throat, “Now first off, I should inform you that if you have any worries about retribution from demons in Grasolib or Hathazor’s cabals those worries are unfounded. In fact, you’re actually being praised in all circles as those two were bordering on the edge of feral. Word has it their right to access the mortal plane was just about to be revoked when you intervened.”

“Great,” Shane mumbles with no true feeling, but Malthazor couldn’t be happier as he chatters on, “Yes, they were clearly becoming soul junkies. No doubt why they zeroed in on your pal.”

This revelation comes as no surprise to Shane. The fact they wouldn’t let Ryan go and the way they acted and talked in general hinted as much. Some demons – once they get a taste for souls – just can’t stop. They just get hungrier and hungrier, more addicted. They degrade and fall apart.

One of the main reasons Shane has never had any interest in ascending is that higher levels tend to fall victim to this plight. It’s similar to famous people in the human world. Once you have enough popularity, money, and power – the world’s your oyster, but at a price. Sex, drugs, alcohol…the classic human downfall. But for the supernatural it’s sex, souls, and blood.

Although, much like the human world, not everyone has to be a higher up to fall victim. After all, Shane remembers the sight of Malthazor’s sweating palm when he offered him the bottle of distilled soul essence. However, Malthazor is certainly not a junkie, his facilities still in his control as he speaks, “Now, that being said, you should be concerned with your change in status. The absorption of two level fives has bumped your level and you will most likely start seeing side effects of this process in the following days. I would suggest consulting with one of our physicians on the matter.”

“Right,” he manages; tone still dead and defeated.

“Then there’s the matter of your current mortal standing. A rise in level is a rise in social status, so should you like access to more money, more power amongst the humans-”

“No,” Shane interrupts and now there is some life in him as he sits up, “That’s why I’m here,” he pauses, remembering the more important reason and hedges, “Or, um, one of the reasons. I don’t want to be reassigned, I don’t want an influx of popularity or money or-or anything like that. I want to stay right where I am.”

Malthazor’s eyebrows rise, “You…want to continue as a monitor?”

He nods, “I can’t just leave. It’ll look suspicious. I’m just as much a part of Buzzfeed as Ryan is.”

“Ryan?”

“My friend,” Shane says and waves at Malthazor’s computer as if seeing it will remind the other demon of the video they just watched. Remind him of the reason they’re in this goddamn office in the first place. Recognition flitters over Malthazor’s face, “Oh! That’s right! The human you’re monitoring! The one you used in your cou…the one you took to the Lot.”

“I didn’t use him,” Shane glowers, “I told you – I was trying to do something nice for his birthday.”

“Well, it was certainly nice for you.”

“IT WASN’T NICE FOR-!” Shane cuts off the moment he realizes he raised his voice and, more so, when he realizes he’s jumped to his feet and Malthazor is cowering. The other demon is huddling up in his chair like the wrath of god’s going to rain down on him and Shane instantly feels like a heel. He curses under his breath and starts pacing, rubbing at his face, “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“No, no, no,” Malthazor relaxes or, better to say, melts, as tension leaves his body, “I’m the one who should apologize, sir; I was growing too informal.”

“You should be,” Shane returns softly, “I’m…I’m really not all that different. And call me Shane.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Shane. Anything you’d like, si-Shane.”

He stops pacing and feels his whole body sag again. Christ. Why can’t he just go back in time? All this supernatural shit around them and time travel is the one thing that’s impossible? It’s such bullshit. He resumes his seat and tries again, “Anyway, I don’t want to leave my job, I like it. I like monitoring Ryan. I’ll go see the physician, I’ll…I’ll do whatever else I…I have to in regards to,” he swallows uncomfortably, “to my ascension. But that’s it. I don’t want any big changes if at all possible.”

“I’ll…I’ll see what I can do,” Malthazor murmurs and then says gently, “But, um, you-you should know that it…it would be best if you marked Riley as your human.”

“Ryan,” Shane corrects and Malthazor nods, “Ryan, yes. I would highly recommend marking him and I have no doubt anyone you speak to about your ascension will say the same. While you don’t have to worry about retribution, you _will_ have to worry about, ah, usurpers. Rising in level has its rewards and its dangers. Unlike you, some demons _do_ plan rises in level and could potentially decide to make a move on you and on anyone they view as having value to you. While marking this Ryan will give him value, it will also give him more protection than he would as merely being your-your friend.”

And now they come to the real heart of it. Shane _did_ want to ask about not having a change in the status quo, but this? This next part? It’s…the most uncomfortable. It’s the part that rankles the most and Shane’s done his very best not to think about it. But it’s the crux of why he came here today and he knows he can’t avoid it any longer.

He draws in a loud, steadying breath and doesn’t meet Malthazor’s eyes as his hands dive back into the pockets of his hoodie as if grasping for purchase, for strength. He casts his gaze upwards, “I…I don’t need to mark him. I already…bonded him.”

Malthazor sits up in his chair so straight it’s as if he’s been electrocuted, “You _bonded_ him?!”

Shane finally does look down and his voice is colored with shame, “I had no choice! He was dying. Or-or maybe he was even _dead_ , I don’t even know anymore – my mind is so hazy about all of it and maybe I _was_ berserk, but when I saw Ryan and he was all…he was…”

Shane’s throat is thick with emotion, Adam’s apple bobbing as he does his best to explain, to justify, “I had to save him. I _had_ to.”

“I thought he was just your friend!” Malthazor gasps, sounding like a scandalized matron, and Shane glares at him, “He _is_ my friend!”

“Maybe ‘friend’ means something different now in the mortal world, but…”

“It doesn’t,” Shane cuts in grumpily but Malthazor doesn’t seem to hear him, “But making him your bonded, that’s-!”

“I had to,” Shane argues again, “I had just absorbed the energy of two demons. You can only pass energy to your bonded and I knew that would save him, so…”

“Does he know?”

“No and he never will. Not ever,” Shane doesn’t think he’s ever sounded so serious in his entire existence, “It was only a partial bonding. He wasn’t conscious at the time. It’s why I’m here; I need to know how to break it.”

“You…want to break the bonding?” Malthazor has sounded shocked many times during this meeting, but this is the one that takes the cake. He looks totally bowled over. Shane nods resolutely, “Yes.”

“It’s…I don’t even…that’s above my pay grade,” Malthazor huffs, “Besides, if he _is_ your bonded he is absolutely safe from any outside attacks. Hell, you can even loop him in on our world now, if you want.”

“I don’t want to do that,” Shane states firmly, “I don’t want him to know about this. Not about any of it.”

“Well,” Malthazor defends, “I mean, doesn’t he have a right to know? Partial bonding or no, it _is_ a bond. It’s the human’s equivalent of marriage and it’s kinda strange for one of you to not, um, know you’re married.”

Shane starts to argue, but stops because, fuck, Malthazor’s not wrong. It’s a crude description but, yes, he and Ryan are pretty much married now. Well, at least in the eyes of the supernatural. But Ryan knows nothing about those eyes, nothing about this life and Shane is damn well going to keep it that way. Flirting with the idea of ghosts and demons is fine, but for Ryan to _really_ know all about this stuff?

No.

Shane refuses. He won’t let everything be upended because of one night’s misfortunes. And yes, some things will have to change – it’s not like he can go down in level. But he’ll be damned if he ropes Ryan into this any more than he’s already (unknowingly) roped in. Ryan is his friend and that’s that.

He looks at Malthazor and while he cringes at the idea of using any part of his new stature, he knows it’s his best bet, “Look, I ascended, alright? I did. I didn’t want to, but I’m…I’m a higher level now and in that position, I can choose the actions I take. And one of those actions is to not tell Ryan and to break our bonding.”

Malthazor lets that sink in before nodding, “Very well. I’ll look into the matter. I’ll also set up your appointment with one of our physicians and let you know when and where it will take place. But I think it would be best if you put some space between yourself and your bondmate, er, _Ryan_.”

The last comes as a quick correction when Malthazor catches sight of Shane’s face. Yes, ‘bondmate’ is not a term he wants associated with Ryan right now. Or ever, “Is that really necessary?”

Malthazor nods, “Until you see the physician? Yes. Because partial bonding or no, you still bonded him and that should kick off a quickening.”

“A quickening?” Shane’s tone is full of disbelief and Malthazor can’t help but look somewhat pitying, “You _do_ know what a quickening is, don’t you? And I do mean for demons, not the way humans use it in terms of-”

“Yes, I know what it is,” Shane cuts in tersely and he knows his face has to be red, the heat of his skin hinting at a full blown blush, “I went through puberty.”

“Well, then you should know bonding rituals tend to kick one off.”

“But a quickening? For Ryan?” Shane is still dumbfounded by the idea because…no? There’s no way he’ll see Ryan and feel, ah…

But Malthazor clearly feels otherwise, “Hey, its biology. Whether or not _you_ want it, your body will feel quite different. Especially if your around your,” he clearly struggles not to say ‘bondmate’ again, “Ryan.”

Shane’s head bobs, “Okay, okay. Fine.”

“Let me go ahead and set you up with some of the required human paperwork. Doctor’s notes and such, the classic things you’ll need to call out sick from work. That’s where you see him, yes?”

Shane just nods and murmurs his thanks. And while he’s still a little adrift in everything that’s happened, he does feel slightly better. Some of the weight lifts. This is fixable. He _will_ fix this. Everything will be fine. He’s sure of it. It has to be.

 

+

 

“Out sick?” Ryan asks and he gets a nod from the intern who handed him the note. Ryan looks at it and frowns. Dammit! He was hoping Shane would help him with some of the editing for the next video and now this! He crumples up the missive and tosses it to one side as he turns back to his computer and types for all of two seconds before stopping to frown.

His teeth worry his lower lip as he thinks about the last time he saw his lanky co-hort. Shane had looked so drained. It’s not that surprising if he is sick, but Ryan finds himself feeling like a jerk for not talking to him about it sooner. He’d meant to that night, but he’d been so exhausted and he’d felt so…weird.

He actually _still_ feels weird, but now it’s in the strangest (and best) way possible.

Ever since he went out with Shane to the shipyard he’s felt – it’s hard to describe, but the best way he can put it is ‘alive’. He has all this energy lately, the high flying type, like he’s on a sugar rush times ten and while he has no doubt he can edit the video himself (honestly, the way he’s feeling, he could probably edit several) he was looking forward to doing it with Shane. He looked forward to sharing some of this fantastic mood.

 _Well, you still can. It’s not like you don’t know where he lives_ , his mind offers and he nods to himself as if he’s spoken the words aloud or to someone else. Yeah, he can easily drop by Shane’s place and offer him his sympathies. Or maybe just call?

But he finds he doesn’t want to call. He really wants to do something and, again, this is a big part of the ‘alive’ mood. He wants to be active. Oh! Maybe he can bring Shane some chicken noodle soup or something and the idea has him giggling and what the fuck? He’s _giggling_? Yeah, this mood is nice, but it _is_ weird. Definitely weird.

He turns his attention back to his computer, plugging away at the video editing a little more. It’s from a show they shot a while ago and it’s just about ready to post. Ryan’s not sure what the next episode will be about. He had hoped it could be about the shipyard, but when he tried to contact them again, he’d been given the brush off. It'd been Shane’s idea and location, so he’s hoping he might have some more pull there.

Ryan’s looked over what little they did shoot that night, but most of its subpar. They didn’t have their actual crew, so the majority of the shots are grainy. It’s pretty much a collection of them walking around and looking at shipping containers. There are some good bits of him when he was in the storage container. Good, in that fans seem to enjoy him freaking out when he’s alone and in dark places, but nothing concrete.

As for the moment with the spirit box, he can’t find anything conclusive in the footage. Which absolutely sucks. It had certainly picked up far more than two words. Even if that whole ‘pretty one’ comment at the end still kind of trips him up. Was a ghost…hitting on him? He’s sure that’s what Shane will say and what will be added to the episode if they manage to go back there and shoot properly.

Also if what happened happens again and that’s truly difficult to say. Like he’s said before – capturing evidence of the supernatural is like catching lightning in a bottle. It’s damn near impossible. Not that he’ll ever stop trying. Although, he has to also admit some reservations about going back to that particular spot considering he can’t quite remember a lot of it.

He clearly remembers being in the container and then coming out and the spirit box really talking and then? Sort of blank. It was like he went from that, to waking up in Shane’s car and he knows that’s not right. It can’t be. They must have done more, said more. Maybe he blacked out? But why? He wasn’t drunk and he certainly didn’t feel ill and if he _had_ blacked out, he’s sure Shane would have said something about it.

So what happened? He’s asked himself this every now and then, but when he tries to search his memories he just comes up blank and finds he can’t or rather, _doesn’t_ , want to focus on it. It’s as if his current happy state won’t let him and it’s almost unnatural how happy he is. Normally he’s bordering on neurotic, but lately he’s been at as ease as Shane usually is.

Maybe that leggy bastard’s been putting something in his coffee. The thought makes him grin and he gets up from his computer to go to the restroom. He takes a leak, then turns to the restroom sink and starts washing his hands.

He’s thinking about where to get chicken soup and what else might be of comfort to his ailing friend when he sees a spot. It appears out of nowhere on the curved, smooth metal of the sink’s base. Water rushes down the drain and Ryan’s brow furrows. He touches the spot and draws it back to see…red. Another spot appears. Then another and another and he looks up, tries to see if it’s dripping from the ceiling, but no – the white tiles above him are pristine.

He looks back down into the sink and it’s just…dripping from nowhere. Little crimson droplets that seem to run circumvent of the water. They grow darker as they form, becoming black and a scent hits the air, sulfuric and unsettling and Ryan draws back quickly, knocking against the door of the closest stall. He blinks and blinks again and the water is still flowing and he looks down at the fingers that touched the spot. They’re clean.

“What the fuck?” he says under his breath and he approaches the sink. There’s nothing on the metal. It’s spotless. He turns the faucet off and looks at himself in the mirror. He looks okay. He tugs down on one cheek and looks deep in the eye above it, then does the same to the other. Everything’s clear. Nothing bloody or out of the ordinary. He runs his hands over himself and there’s no pain, nothing to indicate anything is wrong.

He looks at his reflection and laughs, shaking his head. God, maybe he’s catching whatever Shane has. Maybe he’s getting sick and this high he’s been feeling lately is a warning sign. Because he had to have just imagined that moment, right? There’s nothing to indicate it happened and he knows he’s not going crazy. Shane’s always pegged him with an overactive imagination and that must be it because…

He shakes his head again to himself as he turns to leave the bathroom and then stops dead, a cold chill running down his spine because just out of the corner of his eyes, he sees his reflection in the mirror. And it hasn’t moved. When he turned to leave it just…stood there. Smiling. Laughing.

Ryan gulps and he can just…just barely see it there. His reflection. Still just _standing_ there and looking out from the other side of the mirror. It’s not turned, not like he is, not like it _should_ be. He remembers how Father Thomas told him not to be afraid and he closes his eyes, swallows convulsively before turning quickly, damn near leaping at the mirror and-!

And his reflection is totally normal. It reacts the way it should. It shows his face and his movements and nothing else. Ryan’s cry of ‘ya!’ or whatever stupid thing he uttered aloud to make himself feel braver echoes in his ears as he moves about in rapid succession. He tries to see if anything else scary is going to happen, but it doesn’t. It’s like the drops, a moment that seems like it never happened.

The mirror, and his reflection in it, act as they should.

“I’m losing my mind,” he huffs out in a laugh and relief floods him, but he pretty much dashes out of the restroom after that, because fuck whatever the hell that was.

 _Nothing_ , he tries to mentally reassure himself, _it was nothing. Forget it._

Yeah, like he’s going to forget any of that any time soon and god, he wishes Shane was here. If Shane was working today, he could have told him about it and Shane would have brushed it off or explained it or gone into the restroom and teased him, made out with his own reflection or something stupid. Shane would have made him feel better.

He can still make him feel better and Ryan resolves to definitely go and see him after work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating has changed - yeah, I don't know why I kid myself about things not becoming explicit. Apologies to The Simpsons, Bed, Bath and Beyond, and for my sad attempts at humor. Also, this story has officially dipped into Shyan territory, so if you came for that good and if not, sorry for that too.

For someone who’s skipping out of work for being ‘sick’, Shane has to say, he actually _does_ feel like shit. So, in a way, it’s nice to know he’s not really lying about the situation. True, he doesn’t have a cold or whatever, but he certainly feels achy and hot and just…gross. Not to mention he definitely can’t be seen walking out and about in public with his current problem.

Which is his inability to hide his demonic traits. His horns, wings, and tail are all out on full display and stubbornly refuse to shelter themselves within his frame. It’s not like this isn’t more comfortable for him – it is – but he imagines it’s what it would be like for humans to walk around naked all day. It might feel more natural, but it’s not like you want to flaunt it twenty four seven.

His eyes have stayed human looking, as have his hands, feet, and teeth but still – he’s a lot more demon-y right now than human-y and he doesn’t think that will fly around the office. It certainly wouldn’t fly around Ryan, and while he has used his gifts upon occasion to freak his friend out, he’s never outright shown him his true appearance. 

At one of their location shoots he’d actually used his ability to slip into shadows and popped out of nowhere to scare Ryan – it had made the little guy damn near piss himself. And yeah, that’d been hilarious, but he isn’t about to show him this and have him go into cardiac arrest. Or, worse, hate Shane and tell him he never wants to see him again.

And Shane knows he really shouldn’t worry about that. Honestly, he’s actually pretty old, way older than Ryan thinks he is. He’s had jobs before this, been given tasks, but this assignment? He can’t pinpoint when it turned into something so important to him, so vital, but it has and that’s just…bad. It’s so very, very bad for him.

Because eventually this is going to end. It _has_ to. He knows that. A mortal’s lifespan is nothing compared to his own. And it’s not like he can really age. The form he has now? The face, the body, the build? They’re all his. Some demons _do_ possess hosts, but not him. This is who he is. He’s looked exactly like this since his creation and to be honest, he’s pretty sure he was one of God’s flukes. Makes sense, the big guy was just starting out.

It explains the nose, the spider legs, the weirdly oversized hands and long, slender fingers. There are a plethora of angels, angels-turned-demons, and just flat out demons that are just stupidly gorgeous. And then there’s Shane. Looking like a sleepy goof. Honestly, if he _did_ tell Ryan about it and Ryan was somehow cool with it all, he’s sure he’d have a field day about that.

But he doesn’t want Ryan to know and that ties directly into his assignment, because the longer Ryan doesn’t know, the longer he can keep up the charade that this is lifetime thing. He can pretend that he won’t have to abandon this at some point. That point being whenever Ryan decides to stop making new Buzzfeed Unsolved episodes. And he will stop.

Shane highly doubts Ryan is planning on making the series for decades to come. It’s not ‘The Simpsons’, it’s not going to climb up into an unnatural number of seasons. It’ll run its course and it’ll end and when it does…Shane groans and rubs at his face and man, oh man, he really does feel awful.

His horns are killing him, just right at their bases and he rubs there, trying to ease some of the ache. Demons have a much higher threshold for pain than mortals, so when he hurts, he damn well _hurts_.  The thin skin of his wings also feel stretched taunt, like a pulled muscle, and he keeps flexing them, trying to work it out. He imagines some of this has to do with the changes in his level.

Malthazor had warned as much, and man, Mal – that guy is totally on his shit list right now. He’s on it for two very good reasons – one, Shane feels like crap and he has yet to hear zip about the physician appointment Mal’s supposed to set up for him. And two? Oh, two is the most galling. Because Shane got a ‘special’ delivery this morning from a Banshee courier.

Banshees are just one of many supernatural creatures that tend to gravitate towards occupations that involve delivering news and mail, because why not do what you’re good at? So, this Banshee rolls up to his door at too-early-in-the-fucking-morning-o’clock and lets out an earsplitting wail, because god forbid she ring his doorbell.

Shane opens up and glares at her and she just shrugs him off like it’s nothing. She hands him the delivery and mournfully announces, “For you.” (Or more, like ‘For yooooo _oooooooooou_ ’…overly-dramatic bitch) and he pretty much slams the door in her face.

Then he finally looks down at the package and good lord, it’s a _bonding basket_. It has a pretty, floral-printed note attached with scrawling script announcing ‘Congratulations’ and signed by Judy and Phil and fuck Malthazor just…fuck him…because the only way those two know is if he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

The basket has the normal bonding gifts. A bottle of fresh human blood, Tupperware with animal organ meats, a couple of bones, some distilled soul essence and an ungodly amount of lube and condoms and jeez, he doesn’t want to think about _Judy_ buying this stuff.

Although he _will_ probably use the Bed, Bath, and Beyond gift card tucked in to one side. Still so funny how mortals never pick up on how that place is supernaturally run. ‘Beyond’ is in its friggin’ _name_ ; one would think they would’ve picked up on that by now.

Regardless, a bonding basket is the last thing he needs. It was only a _partial_ bonding and he's going to break it. He just has to find out how. As such, he’s currently huddled up on his couch with his laptop and searching the spectral web feed like a mad man. Most of what he finds is useless. It’s all about how great bondings are and how it’s a big step in your (unnatural) life. There are pages upon pages dedicated to how to plan fancy bonding ceremonies and exotic locals where you can go after for your ‘sealing’.

He zeroes in on this a bit, because apparently sealing is just as important as the act of bonding itself. Sealing is like a honeymoon, but far more important because that’s usually when consummation happens. Shane thinks about the lube and condoms again and winces. At least that’s one thing he won’t have to worry about. It’s highly unlikely he’ll want to jump Ryan’s bones any time soon.

It’s not that Ryan isn’t attractive. Because he is. He’s a total babe. Shane’s even called him that or something to that effect although he can’t quite remember right now with his horns and wings stinging as they are, but the point is - Ryan is his friend. He’s not going to screw that up with sex.

Has he thought about it? He’d be lying if he said no. Again, he’s part of a very passionate species. But he also recognizes he’s doing a _job_. A job that can’t be entangled with romantic and/or sexual hang ups. Ryan is his bestie and that’s the end of that. Of course, now he’s also his bonded, so that has to be fixed. Especially if he does go into quickening.

Reading all these articles, he gets why a quickening would happen. It guarantees the sealing – because you’ll be boning. A lot. (Damn lube and condoms float in his mind again – ah!) But he just has a hard time thinking that one will get kicked off inside him by Ryan. Again, Ryan’s hot, but he’s never been powerless to that attraction. He’s never lost all common sense and become a rutting animal.

The only quickening he’s ever gone through was when he was a very young demon, because quickening is just a part of puberty. He doesn’t like to think about it. Mainly because it is one hundred percent embarrassing. Honestly, it was just a lot of him jacking off and rubbing lewdly up against things he should not be rubbing up against. Thankfully his heated memories of the event are pretty well fogged, but he _does_ seem to recall getting off against an end table.

Ugh. Gross. He’s amazed his dick didn’t snap off back then. But quickenings do tend to make demons more invulnerable than usual. And full of extra stamina. Yeah, the refractory period kind of goes out the window when in the grips of one. Which he will _not_ be in, because he’s here and he’s safe and Ryan’s not around and again, even if he _was_ around, Shane’s positive he’d be fine. Just fine.

He only followed Mal’s instructions because it seemed like the best course of action. Not because he’s afraid if he sees Ryan he’ll fall into some kind of bonding-induced heat. No, not that at all. He’s pushing up his glasses and drinking a cup of coffee, lost in his research and doing his best to ignore the bits of him that hurt when he hears a knock at the door.

He puts his mug to one side and gets up with a groan as he stretches out kinks in his back and neck. He swears to god, if this is another supernatural courier, he might just resort to violence. He makes sure to look through the peep hole on his door and when he sees Ryan’s face he curses a blue streak. Why is Ryan here? Why didn’t he call?

Shane goes over to where his cell is charging and sees a bunch of missed calls and dammit, he left it on vibrate again! He probably didn’t hear it over the pounding in his own skull. It suddenly glows to life again with a new call from Ryan and he swiftly unhooks it to answer, “Hello?”

“Hey dude, it’s me. I’ve been trying to reach you for the past hour. I’m outside of your place. Are you accepting visitors or-?”

“This isn’t a hospital, Ryan,” Shane mutters and he quickly dashes to his kitchen, shoving the bonding basket he left on one of the counters into a bottom cabinet, “You don’t need a pass from the front desk to see me.”

“Okay, well, you wanna let me in?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just…just give me a sec,” Shane hangs up and tosses the phone to one side as he rushes back to his couch. He has a long grey fleece throw over one side of it and he quickly wraps it around himself like a cape. That hides the wings and the tail, so long as he does his best to keep both hunched up. Now for his horns. He dives into his coat closet and finds a beanie. He tugs it on as best as he can and looks in a nearby mirror and it’s…passable.

It’s a little lumpy up there, but not questionably so. He hopes it’s not questionably so, but god knows Ryan is always full of questions. He clears his throat and unhooks a couple of locks and latches before opening the door to face Ryan who’s holding a little shopping bag and looking at him with wide eyes, “Oh man, you look like shit.”

“You’re a real smooth talker, Mr. Bergara. Anyone ever tell you that?” Shane grumbles, but he can’t help but smile a little bit, because it’s so good to see him. Even if this is a very thin ice kind of situation. One wrong move and he’s going to expose a whole lot more of himself and the supernatural world than he would like.

Still, if there’s one thing he can definitely say about himself, it’s that he likes to play dangerously. And it certainly doesn’t get any more dangerous than this as he steps back and waves Ryan in. Ryan comes in enough that Shane can shut the door behind him before he hefts up the bag by way of explanation, “Brought you some chicken noodle soup, ginger ale, crackers – everything a guy needs when he’s feeling under.”

Shane flutters his eyelashes, “Well aren’t you sweet?”

Ryan’s eyes dart about and he looks flustered and Shane gets the impression he’s blushing and isn’t that funny? He truly loves nothing more than needling this guy. Honestly, it’s making him feel better than any soup ever could. More so when Ryan sighs and reaches into the bag, drawing out a little stuffed toy monkey, “I also got you this.”

“What? Really?” Shane huffs with amusement and while making sure to keep one hand firmly grasped around the blanket he has covering himself the other goes straight for the monkey. It is ridiculously cute and Ryan rubs at the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly where he stands, “Yeah, you know, you seemed to get a kick out of that one back on the Island of the Dolls and I saw this in the grocery store and…”

“Aw, baby – you shouldn’t have!”

“D-don’t call me that! Just-just shut the fuck up, Shane,” Ryan laughs, but it’s sort of shaky and Shane can’t help but poke some more, “You’re the best ghoul friend a guy could ask for.”

“Look, you did something nice for me for my birthday. I’m just,” he waves to the monkey, “returning the favor.”

“It _is_ nice, Ryan,” Shane promises, “Seriously. More guys should exchange toys. We should make it a thing. Tell you what; next week I’ll bring you something. What do you think? Bet I could find a ghost plushie somewhere. Oh! Or maybe a raccoon! Y’know a raccoon like Brandon from-!”

“If you mention that abomination, I’m leaving,” Ryan vows and Shane drops all references to the Hot Daga as he clutches the monkey close. Everything is nice and companionable and Shane is just rooting for all of it in his mind, because clearly Mal was full of shit. Quickening his ass. Everything is how it should be. Well, except for the fact that with one wrong move his secret’s out.

But that’s…sort of exciting? He’s practically vibrating with it and it’s like being on a tall roller coaster as it climbs up and up and up. The tension building with each click of the wheels. Not to mention it would be something of a relief to finally correct Ryan on how demons _actually_ operate.

Ryan sadly falls to the same misconceptions as the rest of the mortal world. Granted, that’s what they want – it’s what Shane wants. The supernatural have perpetuated falsehoods about their attributes for centuries.

A lot of humans would be truly shaken (and probably disappointed) to discover the truth. That truth being that the supernatural world is really not all that different from the mortal one. It’s actually pretty damn mundane for the most part, not even the least bit scary. Not that there _aren’t_ some things to fear.

Grasolib and Hazathor were great examples of the kinds of demons humans anticipate dealing with. Demons full of malevolence who relish in the pain and suffering of others. But demons of their level and ilk are normally regulated to the deeper realms of the Pit. They don't often tarry on this plane and in fact are more often than not barred from it. It wouldn’t do for their type to blow the whistle on the hard working class stiffs like himself.

He almost laughs at that because, again, here he is close to doing it himself. Ryan holds up the bag and looks towards his kitchen, “Want me to heat this up for you?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

Ryan wanders into the kitchen and Shane hears the sounds of him making himself right at home. He’s been over before and he knows where everything is, so Shane wanders back to the couch. He rearranges himself neatly, wings and tail comfortably tucked away and hidden within the confines of his blanket when Ryan returns. He has a look on his face that hints at trouble.

“Guess what I found?” Ryan asks; hands behind his back and Shane knows that voice. Ryan’s about to tease him unmercifully about something, “I don’t know. What?”

Ryan draws out one of the condoms.

Shit!

Shit, shit, _shit_!

It must have fallen out of the basket! Dammit! Shane feels like his face is on fire and it’s hard to school his features to remain blasé as he deadpans, “Yeah, so what? I’m hoping to get lucky.”

Ryan shakes his hand lightly and the condom packet unfurls to reveal a goddamn roll. It’s a _roll_ of packaged condoms all connected together. Shane just goes with it, “Very lucky.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing anybody.”

“I’m not,” Shane returns easily and then, much to his dismay, his mouth keeps running, “You?”

Why did he ask that?

“Nope.”

Why does he feel so relieved?

“I guess I know where to go if I need supplies to practice safe sex.”

“You should always practice safe sex, Ryan,” Shane chides in the most paternal voice possible as Ryan snorts, “Yeah, but what if who you plan on sleeping with isn’t even human?”

“Excuse me?” Shane gasps, eyes wide, because Ryan can’t possibly mean-!

“My ghostly admirer at the shipyard,” Ryan grins, “Maybe I’ll give that a go.”

Shane hopes Ryan doesn’t know how much he deflates at that. Part relief at not being discovered and part…okay, no, no. He is _not_ jealous at the idea of Ryan shaking up with that djinn. Not in the slightest. Although he’s still not opposed to punching that douche in the face. But not because of some sort of jealousy. Just…aggravation. Aggravation sounds good. Plausible. Truthful! No, better than plausible – truthful! He truthfully wants to punch that djinn in the face because he aggravated him. Good. Glad that’s settled.

With it settled, Shane smirks, “I see, so you’ve finally revealed your hand. It’s never been about proving whether or not ghosts exist, it’s about seeing whether or not you can have sex with them. That’s how you should’ve sold it to Buzzfeed in the first place. Bet they would have given you a bigger budget from the get go if that had been the premise.”

Ryan ducks his head as he chuckles, “Sure, you caught me. That’s been it all along. I’ve got a thirst for ghosts.”

“What about Bigfoot? Were you disappointed we didn’t find him? Or is he not your type?” the questions are playful, but Shane’s dancing around something he’s hoping he’ll get a real answer for. Not that he cares. Not really. Up to this point Ryan’s only ever exclusively shown interest in women, so it’s highly unlikely he’ll say anything different here. Yet for reasons unknown, Shane is bracing himself.

“Well, I don’t know. How is he going to treat me?” Ryan asks and Shane feels like he’s on the worst of tether hooks, “Is he going to take me out to a nice dinner or just, like, try to make baby feets with me?”

“B-baby-?” Shane just quails under the weight of his own laughter, because while he does want a legitimate answer, that’s just too funny. Ryan’s laughing too, but still trying to talk, “I don’t know what you’d call their kids!”

“Okay, but how do you have a _womb_ in this scenario? I think you need one of those to pop out a baby.”

“I don’t know!” Ryan gasps, still gripped with humor but also his normal excitement at discussing theories, “Maybe he has it or they lay eggs, or-!”

“Why on earth would Big Foot lay eggs? I mean, maybe the Loch Ness monster or something. Is that what we’re going to do in a later season, Ryan? Or a kraken? Are you down for some tentacle play?”

“I never said I was down for hooking up with Big Foot!” Ryan practically shouts, voice rising with his enthusiasm and Shane is trying really hard to get back to the question at hand, but it’s difficult when he’s having this much fun. Finally they both calm a little and Shane asks as gently as possible, “So, that’s a no on the Foot then?”

“I-I, well, I mean-!” Ryan sort of tumbles all over his words and my goodness, is that another blush Shane sees? Shane waits patiently until Ryan can form something coherent, “I guess if he was a good guy – monster – whatever, I-I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“Really?” Shane asks in a drawn out way because, well, maybe Ryan is just joking because it’s not like Big Foot is real (that Ryan knows of) and it’s not like he’s saying he’s outright open for…

But then Ryan kicks out one foot, eyes not meeting his friend’s as he says very softly, “I…wouldn’t be opposed to anyone. Um, woman or-or, ah, man, if they’re good and we clicked and…”

“Hey,” Shane’s voice is so strong and warm Ryan risks looking up to meet his gaze, “It’s okay. I feel the same.”

Ryan lets out the contender for world’s loudest breath, “Yeah?”

Shane nods, “The world’s too big to be so limited, you know.”

“You think?”

“Trust me,” Shane says with a smile and oh boy, if only Ryan knew how big the world truly is. _You could tell him_ , a voice hisses in his mind and he ignores it, because he’s made his choice. He doesn’t mind reassuring his friend about his sexual preferences; that’s what a good friend does. But Shane will be damned if he loops Ryan into all of his crazy, otherworldly shit. Well, more damned than he already is; hardy har har.

Shane rolls his eyes to himself and waves to the kitchen, “Think my soup’s ready?”

“Oh,” Ryan exhales, “Yeah, yeah! Let me just-!”

He dashes off and Shane’s lips twitch because, hey, Ryan is open to men and that’s good news. For someone. Not him. But someone. Shane rolls one of his shoulders and tilts his neck to one side, hearing a pop and he frowns. The achiness has dropped away but now there’s this weird…itching. But a different kind of itch. Like there’s a buzzing right under his skin that he can’t scratch.

Shane writes it off and sees his laptop is still floating about his couch cushions so he closes it up and puts it on the nearby coffee table. Ryan comes out with two bowls of soup and plants one in front of Shane, the other nearby for himself and then disappears again only to return with two glasses of ginger ale. Shane looks at the set up and grins, “Never realized you were so homey.”

“I’m not,” Ryan promises, “It’s not like I made the soup. And I can’t have my co-host dying from starvation, now can I?”

“Yes, because clearly when I’m sick I stop eating,” Shane digs into his soup, slurping it down with such vigor as to make Ryan’s nose wrinkle in disgust, “Can’t take care of myself at all when I get a fever.”

“Do you have a fever?” Ryan asks and at Shane’s shrug he continues, “Actually, what do you have? I didn’t even ask. You’re not contagious, are you?”

“If I am, it’s too late for you,” Shane’s tone is saucy, but in a way that Ryan can never know, he _is_ contaminated. After all, he’s part of the bond, even if only partially and unknowingly. But Shane’s pretty sure he won’t suffer any ill effects. Pretty sure. Again, that meeting with the physician can’t come soon enough. The sooner he breaks the bond, the better.

That said; he could certainly get used to this. True, Ryan’s not actually his bondmate and he’s certainly not playing the part. No, Ryan’s just being a good friend. But there’s something to be said for having someone give a damn when you don’t feel well. Especially when they bring you food and god, this soup is amazing.

Shane finishes it off quick and then notices the toy monkey Ryan gave him to one side. He forgot he’d brought it to the couch and he holds it up, “What about our son? You bring him any soup?”

The look Ryan shoots him is the best cross between livid and happily entertained, “That is _not_ our son.”

“Daughter?”

Ryan just lets his head fall back on a weary sigh. Shane is tickled pink, “C’mon, how can you deny this face? Ryan Shane Junior loves you!”

“ _That’s_ the name you want to go with?” Ryan’s gaze is back on him again, exasperated but gleeful, and Shane nudges him, “You got a better one?”

“No! And I refuse to acknowledge it as our pseudo child!”

“Well then, looks like I’ll just have to take this to the courts!”

“Yeah, you do that – see if the courts ask me to pay child support for a stuffed toy monkey!”

“Oh, they will,” Shane vows darkly and Ryan just laughs again as he returns to his soup. Shane puts the monkey away and once they’re done eating, Ryan cleans up. Shane honestly can’t think of how this evening could get any better and when Ryan returns he strips his jacket off and tosses it over the couch, “You never did tell me what you have.”

“Eh, it’s nothing you can catch,” Shane offers, “Just some bug.”

“Well, you look a lot better now than you did when I first showed up.”

“Good to hear,” Shane says but what he thinks is, yeah, he does feel better. Which is weird. And maybe a little bit concerning. But the most important thing is that he doesn’t feel any sort of quickening hints. Hell, maybe since it was a partial bonding, he’ll just skip over it or he and Ryan aren’t compatible like that, but whatever – the main thing is, Mal’s full of it and Shane can’t wait to rub it in his face.

Ryan’s walked over to his TV and is eyeing his film collection, “I still can’t believe the number of blu rays you have. You know everything is digital now, right?”

“There’s something to be said for having physical things. You wouldn’t be perusing that right now if it wasn’t there.”

“Hmm, fair. A lot of horror here.”

“Of course. They’re hysterical.”

“To you?” Ryan grins over one shoulder, “I’ll bet.”

“You want to pick one?” Shane asks and Ryan turns fully, chewing the inside of one cheek, “I don’t know, man. I should probably go. You need your rest.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, Mom.”

“I-!” Ryan let’s out that familiar sputter, “I don’t even know where to start? First off, I’m not your Mom, but even if you want to go off that analogy – wouldn’t I be your Dad? And what about our apparent monkey child? Are we incestuous?”

“You’re putting a lot of thought into this. Probably too much thought.”

“I know. It’s a curse,” Ryan mutters and Shane gives him the best Cheshire cat grin as he remarks dryly, “I noticed you slip the Dad in there so, y’know, I’m guessing you want me to call you Daddy.”

Shane knows for a fact now that Ryan is blushing. What he _doesn’t_ know, and does not at all want to examine, is why he’s so…breathless now. He shouldn’t have said that. That was not a thing he should have said. Or thought about and oh, oh, no, no, _no_ …

The itch…it’s grown worse. Now he recognizes it for what it is. The thrumming tick in his blood. A rise in pressure and a low, hot liquid pull in his stomach. The quickening. It’s here. He breathes in through his nose and there’s this scent in the air. What is it? It’s…sweet. His memory flashes back to Grasolib saying the same about Ryan’s soul. The air is laden with it. This sweet, sugary smell and he has to hold back a sound that will immediately be recognized as sexual. He curls into himself and Ryan’s blush drops away, concern taking its place, “Hey, you okay?”

“Uh huh,” Shane manages and it’s like a wave has crashed over him and just as he’s trying to pull his head above water, Ryan walks over and places a hand on his forehead, murmuring, “Let me check.”

If Shane were his normal self, he would make some crack about how the hand-to-forehead test for temperature readings is bullshit. If he were his normal self. Instead he has to strangle a moan, because Ryan is touching him and even if it’s the simplest, lightest, most innocent of touches, it’s still a touch and it shoots right through every vein.

Shane’s eyes close and he feels them flicker under his lids. He’s sure they’re black now, so he keeps them clamped tightly shut as his imagination just…explodes. It becomes nothing but a collection of erotic imagery. And all of it Ryan. He can just picture it. Grabbing Ryan’s wrist, tugging him forward and capturing his mouth.

His teeth elongate and he runs his tongue over them, jaw tight, because the smell is _everywhere_ and he swears he can _feel_ what he’s imagining. His tongue, slick and hungry, in Ryan’s mouth and Ryan beneath him, writhing and moaning and just, just grinding up against him. Shane wants Ryan beneath him. He wants to pin him down; he wants to strip him naked. He wants to taste every single inch of his flesh. He wants to feel Ryan’s inner walls pulsing around him as he thrusts into him, as he buries himself so, so deep.

“Shane?” Ryan asks, “You’re awful hot, buddy. Maybe you should lie down.”

 _Yes_ , Shane thoughts whimper, _lie down. Lie down with me, Ryan. Crawl over me, take me, fuck me, let me fuck you, please, please_ …

He shakes his head and tries to get ahold of himself, but it’s so goddamn hard. _He’s_ hard. His dick is like plywood in his pajamas and he can’t possibly get up. Hiding his wings and tail are one thing, but this? He’s also huffing and puffing like he’s going to blow a pig’s house down. The big bad wolf. The big bad demon. Fuck, fuck, come on, Shane! You can do this! You can fight it!

“Okay, dude. Now you’re really starting to freak me out. Do I need to call someone or-?”

“No,” Shane manages to eke out and he finally opens his eyes and they must be normal because Ryan doesn’t immediately start screaming, “I’m just…you’re right. I-I suddenly don’t feel so good. You…you should go. You should go.”

He repeats the last because he’s terrified of what will happen if Ryan doesn’t leave soon. He would never do anything without Ryan’s consent, that’s not his fear. He knows he’d never hurt him or take advantage of him or force himself on him or anything like that. No, it has more to do with his barely leashed control on himself and how he doesn’t want to expose his true form, he doesn’t want to show his erection, and he certainly doesn’t want to do something beyond embarrassing.

Like beg. He feels like he could just fall to his knees and beg Ryan to give him something, anything. He also feels like he needs to get his rocks off and fast. That’ll help, that’ll alleviate this. It’s what quickenings are for – they encourage sexual activity, encourage sealings. If this had been a real and true bonding, he would have been more than happy to be completely vulnerable with Ryan.

Shane would be fine with his real bondmate seeing him like this. It would actually be rather fun and electrifying, a thrill ride of carnal activity in which everyone is equal. But he’s already thrust the bonding upon Ryan (albeit to save his life), he won’t push him into this too. And he’s definitely not going to humiliate himself by-by riding Ryan’s leg or something and of course, that’s when Shane notices Ryan’s thighs.

They’re thick and strong and he could straddle one and rock against it. That delicious friction. It’d be rough and there’d be a burn, but one so pleasant and maybe Ryan would claw his back, tug his hair and Shane loves when someone pulls on his scalp. Better, takes a good grip on his horns and _pulls_. The twist in his loins is stronger now and he stumbles to his feet drunkenly, hoping against all hope that his little situation isn’t all that obvious.

Actually ‘little’ is really the wrong word to use as he is proportionally accurate. Would Ryan like that? His imagination slams him with another filthy image, Ryan riding his cock and loving it, talking about how big it feels inside him, how much he wants to be filled and Shane can barely choke back a whimper as he scuttles over to the door, “I’ll see you out.”

He’s going to ignore how much he _panted_ that. Ryan, still totally clueless about how embarrassingly aroused his friend is, goes to the door but points at him accusingly, “Look, if you really do start to feel so bad that you need somebody, you call me, alright?”

“Totally. I’ll totally do that,” Shane manages instead of screaming ‘You! I need you!’ and he’s actual proud of himself for that.

He’s almost got the door shut on Ryan when he does a quick about face and looks at him through the open crack of the door, “Oh! Hey, wait! I left my jacket!”

“I’m-! Ryan, I’ll bring it to you later, I promise,” Shane does beg now, because his visage is falling apart. Ryan can’t see it – thank god – but his left hand has changed to its clawed form. It started off as a normal hand pressed against the door frame but now his claws have begun to dig deep into the wood, little splintered whorls forming as they drag down because he’s barely keeping it together, “I gotta go.”

Ryan looks at his sweating pal with no little consternation, but Shane knows he’s picking up what he’s trying to put down. The code of guys that says, ‘Hey, I’m going to lose my lunch and I’d like to do it in private, thanks’. Ryan just nods, “Alright. It’s not that cold out anyway. You take care, Shane. I’ll call you later.”

Shane watches Ryan walk away and waits until he’s a good deal down the hallway before slamming the door shut and collapsing back against it, the blanket pooling around his feet as his wings expand. His hands shake as they reach down, his left handed claws shredding his pajama bottoms and underwear before going back to grip at the door frame, tearing it asunder while his human right hand wraps around his full, leaking length and yes, _ohhhh yes, please, god, thank you_!

It takes a shamefully low number of rhythmic pulls before he’s coming all over his hand, Ryan’s name escaping him on a pathetic groan, the air rich with Ryan’s scent and Shane’s release. His knees tremble like leaves in a strong wind and his chest is rising and falling in quick bursts. He knocks his head back against the door, moaning because it’s not over.

Shane can feel another rush of arousal and he’d berate himself for not noticing the signs earlier if he wasn’t distracted by how goddamn horny he is. He is, after all, a horny boy. The next groan is reserved just for that dumb thought and he can feel his horns pushing at the beanie as if they’re _growing_.

He tugs the beanie off and tosses it aside, as well as his shirt. As for his pajama bottoms and underwear? They’re just another casualty of his recent Losing Clothes War. Once he’s stripped and fully naked he uses the ruined remains of his pajama bottoms to clean himself. This is when he spies Ryan’s jacket over the top of the couch.

He shouldn’t. Oh god, he really shouldn’t. But he’s strung out on the quickening and the heat and the need to find release and he finds himself stumbling towards it. There’s a sound from the kitchen and he only balks for a second before he sees something rolling towards him. It’s one of the tubes of lube and how the fuck did it get out here? It’s like he summoned it or-? Fuck, he doesn’t want to think about the possibilities of rising demonic powers right now.

Right now he’s just grateful as he snatches it and Ryan’s coat up and he knows, he just knows, he’s going to go his room, toss the coat down on his mattress and bury his nose in it. That he’s going to fill his lungs with Ryan’s scent and his residual body heat as he brings himself off again. Shane wants to come like that – with the feeling of Ryan all around him. And he should feel guilty about that – he _will_ feel guilty about that – but later. Much, much later.

 

+

 

Ryan is riding down the elevator in Shane’s apartment building, still worrying about his friend. Whatever he has, it must be an odd little bug. When Ryan had first arrived Shane had looked terrible, then as they’d spent time together Shane had started to not only look better, but to almost…glow. Ryan can’t think of a better word for it. Shane’s eyes had been bright, skin flushed and it’d…looked good on him. Really good.

Ryan had been happy to see it. He’d also been happy that he’d finally included Shane in on the very tiny circle of people who knew he was bisexual. True, he hadn’t outright said it, but he knew Shane understood what he was saying. Ryan has toyed with telling him for a while now. Rationally, he knew his friend would understand; Shane wasn’t the type to turn someone away for something like that.

But irrationally he freaked out about it, like he freaks out about everything. He just…he couldn’t have stood it if Shane looked at him with disgust or pity or a mixture of both. Which he didn’t. He knew and it seemed like he might also be bi or, at the very least, open to something other than just women.

Shane had never shown much interest in anyone – man or woman – so Ryan truly had no idea, but now he has an inkling of one and that’s…interesting. Yes, much like ‘glow’ Ryan can’t think of a better word than ‘interesting’ for that. He doesn’t really want to examine why. Or, maybe he does, a little bit, but…okay, it’s not just ghosts and demons he’s scared of. Ryan hates it, but he’s afraid of a lot of things, and one of them is the places his mind goes. The things it gets hung up on.

Deciding the best course of action is to push it away for now, he circles back to Shane’s bug. Because Shane had been looking great and then he just sort of melted. It was like watching a phoenix burst into flame. He’d certainly looked heated. Wait, that thought came out wrong. It was more like he looked hot. Wait, that’s worse! Feverish! That’s what he’d looked. _Feverish_. His forehead had been a bit warm, but nothing too alarming.

Certainly not alarming enough for Ryan to insist on staying or calling an ambulance. But it was obvious the bug had reared its head again and sometimes sickness is like that. Alternating waves of feeling better and then feeling worse. Despite Shane’s reassurances, he hopes he doesn’t catch whatever it is. He’s got work to do and shit! He forgot to fill Shane in on work and ask about the shipyard.

If the shipyard is a no go, they have to find another location for the episode. Normally all of this is planned out far in advance, but they roll the dice on some episode ideas and this had been one of them. They have at least three more to shoot before they shut down for a break and then after that they go into the next season of True Crime.

Ryan doesn’t have a lot of time to waste on getting it all worked out and  of course he also forgot the other important thing he wanted to talk to Shane about. That weird business in the restroom with the mirror. Granted, Shane would probably tell him he’s crazy, but that’s honestly something Ryan _wants_ to hear. Because the more he thinks about it, the more spooked he gets.

Shane has a great way of calming him down, even if it's by way of calling him a wimp or telling him he’s nuts. Ryan supposes it’s the way he does it. Deep voice lulling and calm, logical. Not to mention the stupid jokes and honestly, Shane makes him crack up far more than anyone else. It’s why they work so well together. He'd had fun working with Brent, but gaining Shane as a co-host is what’s really helped his show soar.

Their friendship is an added bonus. Not that they hadn’t been friendly as interns, but Shane’s role then had been different. Honestly, Ryan’s still a little hazy on how Shane ended up taking over for Brent in the first place, but it sure worked out. More so when Ryan expanded Unsolved to include the supernatural as well as true crime.

Shane’s level of skepticism is on another level and it really plays well against Ryan as a believer and Ryan _does_ believe. The Queen Mary had just been his start, he’s seen so many things, heard and felt so many things and while he doubts they’ll ever capture anything on camera, it’s still fun to pursue his passion. Even if his passion tends to freak him out. Although that’s always good for views.

He bets the viewers would've adored his jumpiness in the restroom and he should not be thinking of that when he’s about to go outside and into the dark. The evening is balmy and it’s not like there aren’t lights illuminating the way. The apartment complex, the parking lot – everything is lit. But the sky is starless and the breeze is tickling the back of his neck and memories of the mirror just put him right on edge.

Ryan finds himself walking quickly to his car and he startles when something skitters past him. It…it was just a shadow. A _moving_ shadow.

 _It’s a cat, ya dingus_ , his inner Shane voice chides and Ryan swallows, unclenching his fists. A cat. Of course it’s a cat. Or a dog. Or some other small animal. It just ran across his path and disappeared. No big deal.

He hasn’t stopped walking, but his walk has become something of a jog as he gets ever closer to his car only to see another shadow dart across his path but from the other direction. Still a cat. Probably just the same cat. The cat is just zig zagging across his path. That’s it. That’s all. And the fact he can see this shadow so clearly despite it being night? Just…his eyesight is good. It’s so much better than he thought.

He reaches into his jeans and pulls out his keys, fumbling with the button that unlocks the doors when the shadow appears again and this time instead of crisscrossing his path it just stops dead in front of him. It's a few feet away and it’s…not attached to anything. It’s just a pool of shadow and Ryan grinds to a halt, licking his lips as he clears his throat and says the stupid thing every stupid person says in one of these situations, “Hello?”

Hello. Like it’s going to _answer_.

But then it _does_ answer. An awful sound emanates from where it is. This terrible, unearthly growling screech that makes every hair he has stand on end and he practically falls over himself when the shadow charges. It charges towards him and he stumbles to land back on his ass, arms raised and then? Then nothing. He lowers his arms and the shadow is…gone.

He doesn’t wait for a reappearance. He gets to his feet and rushes to his car. Once inside he locks the doors and starts the engine and tries to get a grip before driving because what the fuck, what the fuck, _what the fuck_?! What was that? What just happened? What did he just see? Hear?

Should he go back and check on Shane? Should he check himself into a mental asylum? But all of that involves getting out of the car, which he’s now terrified to do, because that _thing_ is out there. He waits and waits, heart trying to break out of his body and…nothing happens. He looks at the time and twenty minutes have flown by.

“Oh god, Ryan – what are you doing?” he asks himself in a shaky whisper and he laughs, feeling so dumb. He imagined all of that. He _had_ to have imagined it. Shadows don’t bum rush people. They don’t make _sound_. He just got worked up. He does that. He does.

Feeling a little steadier, he decides to go ahead and drive home. He reverses out and checks his mirrors and hits the road, completely unaware of the fact that the shadow has attached itself to the underside of his vehicle and waits. Just waits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering I'm approaching this with a VERY fictional mindset, I have chosen not to include Helen or Sara. But keep in mind that both those ladies are amazing and I have nothing but respect for them. Also, I know most fics tend to view Ryan as either in the closet or something along those lines, but I have chosen a different path. Hopefully that's okay.


	4. Chapter 4

The carpet and rug store is as unassuming and as boring as one would expect. Hardly anyone ever comes through the door, so it’s equipped with a little bell that jingles out merrily when someone enters so as to alert the staff. This is exactly what it does when Shane enters and a man greets him with a quick up down and a smile, “Hello and how may I be of service today?”

Shane knows the drill, “Yeah, I was curious if you sell anything Venetian.”

“I see. A damask?”

Shane has to avoid rolling his eyes, because these supernatural-cloak-and-dagger-codes are such bullshit, “Yes. In Argassian blue.”

“Ah! Argassian blue! Excellent choice, sir, if you would follow me,” the man trundles away and Shane follows after him. They go through several doors, down several flights of steps and then start hitting the more complex stuff. Locked and coded entrances and lord, does Shane hate red tape. Finally they emerge near a spectacular elevator, the man nodding before leaving, his job complete.

Shane pushes a button and the elevator door opens. Inside is a very bored looking ghost and he thinks of how much Ryan would adore this. Or be terrified. Or disappointed. Or maybe all three. He’s been searching for ghosts for so long and frankly? Most ghosts are just like the one here. Bored and looking for something, anything, to do.

This ghost is a shimmering young woman wearing a nice suit and a beehive hairstyle, hinting strongly at her date of departure, her actions more so as she nosily chews what he’s pretty sure is gum, “What floor ya needin’, kid?”

“I’ve got an appointment at the physician’s,” he replies easily and she blows a big bubble, one nearly invisible and he wonders if she died with the gum in her mouth as she ushers him in. He gets on and lets her operate the very complex panel of buttons. Not surprisingly, the elevator shunts downwards and Shane rocks on his heels as music from the sixties plays overhead.

The ghost pops her gum and drags it back into her mouth, “You a’demon?”

“You a’ghost?” he tosses back dryly and she scoffs, “Yeah, my guy Lenny got sick’a me yakking on the phone. So, he gave me a present.”

She tugs down her collar to reveal marks he can barely make out, but look like the curls of an old telephone wire, “My Ma warned me. She did. She said ta me, ‘Gladys, that guy ain’t no good.’ An’ boy was she right.”

Shane’s bottom lip sticks out as he nods in a commiserating manner. She eyes him thoughtfully, “Had some of you types in my ride before. You see a Lenny Carparo down there in the Pit; you give him a good jab for me, will ya?”

Shane gives her a little smile, “Been a while since I’ve been down there, but – yeah– I see him, I’ll give him the business.”

Gladys laughs, “That’s what I like ta hear.”

He clears his throat, “Has, ah-? Has anyone ever-?”

“What? Come back ta tell me they did?” Gladys grins, the look sharp, “Oh yeah. Last I heard; he was in the pinecones department.”

Shane winces, “The eating or the having it stuffed up-?”

“Oh, it _has_ been a while since you been there, huh? Yeah, it’s going right up his tight ass and _then_ it’s popping out his mouth so he can go right back and eat it. All this followed by some good rinse and repeat,” she laughs gleefully and Shane shakes his head, oddly happy for her because hey, karma’s real and it’s a bitch and it’s clear this Lenny guy deserves it. The elevator rolls to a smooth stop and the doors open.

Shane walks out and sees what would look like a normal hospital anywhere else in the world. Save for its inhabitants. There are manticores, kelpies, ghosts, demons – a whole smörgåsbord of the strange and unusual. Some are clearly injured; others are sitting in plush chairs, waiting their turn. He goes to a reception desk to find a skin-walker and when he approaches she looks up with a warm smile, “Name?”

“Madej,” he replies and she clicks some buttons on her computer, “Ah, right. I see. Well, your recent ascension makes you a top priority, aren’t you lucky?”

He doesn’t feel like he is, but doesn’t comment. She gets up from behind her desk and motions for him to follow. He does and finds himself in the standard medical office, “Doctor Qyrora will be with you shortly.”

Once the skin-walker is gone Shane is left alone to peruse the walls. Anatomies of different monsters are posted and he investigates some before taking a seat on the examination table, a tiny collection of magazines set to one side for him to flip through.

They’re mortal world magazines, because a lot of what goes on up top is more supernatural than the average Joe thinks. He’s reading an article about the latest celebrity wedding (remodeled Greek goddess and undercover demon – yeah, we’ll see how long _that_ lasts) when his doctor comes in, “Madej?”

He tosses the magazine aside and nods. She gives him a sparkling silver smile and when he sees the fangs he can’t help but laugh, “Vampire? Really?”

“Why not? We’re practically cousins,” Qyrora shrugs, “A vampire is just a demon with a higher craving for blood.”

“Hmm, you guys _are_ about as misaligned as we are.”

“Yes, we do good work. I bet humans would really lose their minds if they found out garlic and sunlight doesn’t do a thing. Now! How’s about we check you out?”

Shane nods and removes his shirt while she pulls out various tools, “Expand your wings please.”

He does as asked and she measures this and that, a floating memo recorder nearby taking notes as she thinks them. She tests certain joints for their reflexes, then sighs, “Horns?”

They pop out and again she measures, pokes, and prods, “Eyes?”

They turn jet black and she draws out the same little light every doctor uses to inspect eyes. But this light changes a variety of different colors and as Qyrora looks through she asks, “Have you noticed any changes?”

“Eh, not to brag, but my horns and wings are bigger.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” she draws back the light, starts to check out his ears, nose and throat, “That’s to be expected. I wouldn’t be surprised if your fangs grew as well,” she’s peering down his throat as she says this, “They look good. Sharp. Your tongue, too. Has it always been forked?”

He tries to answer, but considering his mouth is wide open for her inspection, she only gets gargling sounds. Qyrora seems to understand regardless, drawing away as the memo recorder continues working as fast as her thoughts form, “Tail?”

“Um, do I need-?”

“You can take off your pants if you wish or you can just tell me if you’ve noticed a change.”

“Not really.”

“Genitals?”

The sound that leaves Shane would no doubt crack Ryan up. Eventually he manages a huffing, “Wh-wh-wha-?”

“Changes to your genitals,” she offers slowly, as if he’s a child, “You chose to keep your pants on, so I have to ask. It’s not uncommon after ascension. Some demons report it growing thicker or longer or both.”

“Of course they have,” Shane mutters and Qyrora surprises him with another laugh, “Yes well; it’s not _just_ male demons, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ve heard of changes in the anatomies of others as well. Larger breasts, plumper ass cheeks, the works.”

“I’m, uh, as far as I can tell still the same…” he waves his hands for a while before deciding on, “size.”

“Hmm, so monstrous then,” her reply is said with a completely straight face and he’s just – floored. She sees his surprise and grins, one eyebrow rising, “You might be a skinny thing, but with your measurements? Yeeeeeah, I’m going to go out on a limb and say it's _phenomenal_. Which is fantastic for those who are interested in that sort of thing. Claws, please?”

 Shane just blinks dumbly and lets his hands change to their clawed form. The skin turns crimson much like his horns, wings and tail. The nails are black and pointed and she inspects them. Her fingers trail up the red skin until it ends and turns pale, “Has this grown?”

“Um, I don’t think so? I mean, if I totally shift, I’m this shade all over. But it’s been a very long time since I’ve done that.”

“How long?”

“Um, couple of centuries I think?”

“I see,” she draws out a washcloth and soaks it under a nearby tap; wringing it out a few times before handing it to him, “I’ll need a blood sample, please.”

“Another perk of the job, eh?” he teases and she just flashes him her fangs again, “Quickest way to do the test, yes. Either side of your neck will be fine. Or one of your wrists if you’d prefer.”

“I’ll go the old fashioned route,” Shane says as he swipes down the left side of his neck a couple of times. He hands her the washcloth and she dumps it in the sink. She then crouches over his neck and takes a quick bite. He winces, the feeling of her teeth sinking in not all that different from a syringe and lasting about just as long.

When she draws back he runs his fingers over the spot and finds no wound. Vampires. They are surprisingly a lot neater at their work than one would think. She swishes her mouth a little, swallows, and when he sees her fangs again there’s not even one speck of blood. She makes a hum and he’s not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Qyrora picks up his shirt and he takes it, shrugging it back on and buttoning it up as she plucks the memo recorder from the air. He’s pretty sure she’s reviewing her findings. Finally she murmurs, “When setting up this appointment, Malthazor sent me your file. I also looked into your previous medical records. So! Let’s approach this from easiest to swallow to hardest, shall we? First, it was remarked you’re legacy. Something about being related to a Prince of Hell?”

“That’s just some bullshit one of my legion made up to get laid,” Shane grumbles and then he freezes on one of his buttons, realizing the mistake he just made. He does his best to keep his tone casual as he corrects himself, “My cabal, I mean.”

“Nuh uh uh,” she wags a disapproving finger at him, “I have access to _all_ your medical records. No reason to gloss over the truth. You’re a fallen angel.”

Shane doesn’t respond, instead focusing on finishing his task. Once his buttons are done, he grips the examination table, not meeting her eyes, “So?”

Qyrora sighs, “So, it’s obviously an issue if you’re not willing to talk about it.”

“What are you? A shrink?”

“Actually…”

Shane’s head snaps up at this, “You gotta be kidding me.”

“Afraid not,” she confesses almost sheepishly, “Most of us live a very long time. Why not study more than one field? It was, in fact, why you were given to me. Higher levels prefer physicians that are multitalented.”

“Yeah, I can go without a psycho analysis, thanks,” his tone is notably bitter and he’s beyond frustrated. Why can’t things just go back to normal? He already misses his night with Ryan. That had felt normal. Well, except for the bit with the quickening, but he’s done his best to forget about that. To forget about his hand bringing himself off with furious strokes while he drowned his face in Ryan’s coat, teeth biting the material to muffle his cries of ecstasy.

Blushing at the memory he tries to turn his thoughts to something else, “Okay, look – I _was_ an angel. For about five seconds. I came right off the assembly line when the war was taking place. I didn’t even have enough time to choose sides before I was just,” he rolls his shoulders, annoyed and bitter and angry at her for poking at a very old, yet still festering wound, “I was cast off. I had a sense of humor and I guess dear ol’ Dad wasn’t a fan.”

“Do you think that’s why you fell?”

“I told you – I don’t know _why_ I fell,” Shane snaps, “All I know is one moment I had feathers and the next-?”

He spreads his wings, demonstrating how they resemble a bat’s more than a bird’s. Qyrora sucks at her teeth, “But its clear Malthazor knew nothing of your angelic past. There was also nothing in your file. I only know because that can’t be kept from medical records. Clearly you were part of a legion that fell, one that held to the name Madej and made it noteworthy in demonic circles, hence the legacy.”

“Does this have a point?”

“My point,” she returns coolly, “Is that you seem embarrassed about this aspect of your identity and I wonder if that hasn’t bled into other corners of your life.”

“I thought I told you I didn’t want a psycho analysis?”

She shrugs like she can’t help herself and he decides to humor her, “Like I said, I wasn’t an angel for long. And you know how the rest of the demon world views angels-turned-demons – everyone thinks we’re just biding our time. Like we’re going to get a reprieve and join back up with the Holy and I can tell you right now, that’s the last thing I want. Just like this ascension – I didn’t want it. I liked where I was. I liked being a level one. Do you know what I did after I fell?”

Shane doesn’t have to see her shake her head to know she did, just rolling on, “I slept. I slept for…fuck, I don’t even know how long. I’d wake up, take a walk around, check the state of the world, get bored, go back to sleep again. On and on and on. It wasn’t until recently that I…”

He scratches at one eyebrow and groans, “You’re going to take this the wrong way.”

“Never,” she vows but he highly doubts her sincerity as he confesses, “It wasn’t until now that I felt like I, I don’t know, _belonged_.”

He waits for her to pick that apart, but she surprises him, not touching on it. Instead she has the decency to look a little chastised, “I was born into the life. Never got to experience Him or Heaven. Was it-?”

“Don’t ask,” Shane doesn’t recognize his voice. He doesn’t want to examine why. She changes the subject, “Do you react then? To the cross? Holy water? Salt circles?”

He shakes his head, “No. I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I did.”

“Ah, yes. It was in your file,” she puts aside her notes and he sees her lift up what is no doubt the file in question, “You’re a star on YouTube? Assigned to one Ryan Bergara. And it’s my understanding that he’s your bondmate?”

“ _Partial_ bondmate,” Shane stresses and Qyrora’s one eyebrow rises again, “Yes, Malthazor made that very clear when we spoke. You wish to break the bond?”

“Yes.” This is said easily.

“Did you experience a quickening?”

“…yes.” This is said more reluctantly.

“You met with him?” she returns with some surprise, “My understanding was he didn’t know and you chose not to inform him.”

“Yeah,” he draws it out much like she did earlier, but before finally picking up with, “Well, he stopped by. Surprise visit.”

“Did you seal the bond?”

“No,” Shane vows, “Not at all. When he first showed up everything was fine, but when the quickening kicked in, I kicked him out and ah, took care of it.”

“…and you couldn’t tell in that time if your genitals changed?”

The look he shoots her is withering, but she’s too amused to react, “Alright, well, it’s good you resisted the urge. Sealing would have made the bond unbreakable and that would have been very bad for everyone involved, especially considering this is a partial bond, which brings us into the unhappy part of this conver-”

Her words are cut off by a rapid knock at the door. Qyrora and Shane both turn to it as it opens an inch and a snake peeks through inquisitively. But considering the height at which the snake looks in, it’s obviously attached to a full grown person. One Qyrora obviously knows, “Yes, Aglea?”

A gorgon appears, the snake clearly part of her hair, “Your wife is on line one.”

“Tell her I’ll call her back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aglea disappears and Shane looks at the doctor with some surprise, “You’re bonded?”

She nods, “Yes. I’m a supernatural physician, she’s a human one.”

“Must be nice.”

“It is,” she says with the kind of delicacy that lets him know they really _are_ going to be getting into a hard conversation, “Which leads me to ask – are you sure you don’t want to seal the bond? With a proper, _full_ bonding, you could-”

Shane doesn’t even have to think about it, “No. When you talked to Mal, I’m sure he filled you in on all of it. I only did the bond to pass energy to him to save his life. I don’t want him to know about this and besides, we’re just friends.”

“Oh?” it’s a question but one that comes across as noncommittal. Still, he answers, “Look, I get it. It’s hard for most of us to make platonic friends, but that’s what Ryan and I are. We’ve known one another a long time – well, a long time for a demon and a human to know one another. Especially without some evil, grand master plan or whatever, but the point is, if something was going to happen between us, it would have happened by now.”

“Really?”

“Yes, nothing questionable has ever happened,” he then adds, “Well, past this bonding.”

“So you’ve never flirted with him?” she asks this with that one eyebrow crooked again, a very telling expression on her face and Shane falters, “You…you’ve watched the show. Haven’t you?”

“I do my research,” she returns with a guileless smile, “You two are awfully...chummy when you interact.”

“Yes, we’re chummy. We’re chummy chums,” he returns blandly, but as her unimpressed air stays, he concedes, “Okay, maybe I flirt a _little_ bit.” She slips in an ‘ah ha’ but he mows on, “But there’s nothing wrong with a little fun, harmless flirting with your friends.”

“I agree. But bonding your friends, even partially, is quite an undertaking.”

“It’s not if you’re planning on saving your friend’s life,” Shane retorts and the way she breathes in, he knows, just knows, she has bad news. _Better to rip off the Band-Aid fast_ , he thinks as he asks, “What?”

“The bond,” she shakes her head, “Malthazor told me he’d never heard of a partial bond and that’d he’d certainly never heard of breaking a bond. He said it was above his level to know and he’s not wrong. Bonds are…”

She rubs at her forehead, visibly troubled, “You clearly know how to perform one. But they’re not to be taken lightly.”

“I _didn’t_ take it lightly! I did it to-!”

“Yes, I know, I know. I understand. You did it to save him and you are right – bonds make energy transfers easy and energy transfers can heal mortals of damn near anything but…a partial bond…” Qyrora breaks off again, as if this conversation is difficult, and Shane’s starting to get nervous, something he’s not altogether familiar with.

He’s beginning to understand the dread Ryan always feels when they go to certain ‘haunted’ spots – lightheaded and dizzy as he presses, “It’s just partial. It’s not…it’s not unbreakable.”

“No,” she allows, “It’s not. But there’s a reason bondings are so momentous. It’s two conscious, consenting individuals agreeing to merge themselves for eternity. And while partial bondings have been known to occur, they never end well. Think about it - forced bonds?”

“It wasn’t forced,” Shane hopes he sounds as horrified and disgusted as he feels at that suggestion.

“I’m not saying it was. I’m merely comparing the two. Forced bonds, partial bonds – they’re still bonds in which both individuals in question aren’t in complete alignment. If a bond is forced, the one who forced it is punished. Horribly. If it’s a partial bond, one made for survival, there's still a price to pay.”

Shane’s Adam’s apple bobs, “And what is that?”

Qyrora crosses her arms, eyes shifting to one side, “I tasted your blood. It’s…not as strong as it should be. You mentioned no significant changes. I’m assuming you haven’t exhibited any new found demonic powers?”

“I did a summoning,” Shane admits, coloring slightly at the reason why, “But it was connected to my quickening. I didn’t give it much thought.”

“Summoning, but nothing else? No enhanced strength? Telepathy? Astral travel? Shape shifting?”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

“I thought as much,” she runs a hand through her thick dark curls, “You smote two level fives. That should put you at a level five at the very least, if not significantly higher. But…you’re not. From what I can tell, you’re…hovering. You’re about a four. And that’s being generous.”

Shane frowns, eyebrows knitting together, “But I _did_ ascend.”

“Yes, but not like you should have. I think, in your overzealousness to save your friend, you passed on too much energy to him. You were submissive and he absorbed far, far more than he should have.”

“You’re saying…what? _Ryan_ leveled?”

“I’m saying your bonded is going to see far more of the supernatural world than you would ever like and it’s only a matter of time,” she warns, “I’m saying you need to bring him to me and as quickly as possible.”

Shane feels numb. There’s this sinking inside him and he feels disembodies as he answers, “Oh-Okay. I’ll, I’ll,” he gulps, “I’ll influence him here and…”

Qyrora is already shaking her head, “No, you see, that’s what I was saying. With a bond, even a partial one, you’re ability to influence him is gone. Trust me, if I could influence my wife, I’d never do the dishes again.”

The joke is lame and misplaced and sits there awkward between them. She sighs, “As I told you earlier, I did my research. It’s a requirement in ascensions. You called for Clean Up after the event at the Lot. The Clean Up crew had their own reports and in them, it was detailed that while one of the psychic workers _was_ able to wipe Mr. Bergara’s mind and make it harder for him to recall the evening in total, there was some…resistance. It should have been an easy task to purge his mind and replace it with false memories, but it wasn’t. Which implies an imperviousness to supernatural tactics, something commonly found in bondmates and, in particular, bondmates imbued with too much energy and while mortals don’t have levels, when you give them power it gets ugly. And it gets ugly _fast_.”

He absorbs that and tries not to think about how it pretty much means his entire life is going to fall apart. He always knew the Buzzfeed gig would end at some point but, he just…he didn’t think it would be so _soon_. He wants it to be longer. Just a little longer. But he knows where his true priorities lie as he asks, “But you can break the bond. Right?”

She doesn’t sound happy as she confirms, “It can be broken. Yes.”

“Alright,” he breathes, then swallows and nods to himself, “Alright. That’s all I need to hear.”

 

+

 

Something is wrong.

Ryan can’t put his finger on what it is, but whatever it is, it’s been hovering around him ever since he visited Shane. It’s this disquieting feeling that he can’t seem to shake no matter what he does.  He’s not completely unconvinced he didn’t catch whatever Shane has, except he doesn’t feel sick exactly. He doesn’t have a fever; he’s not nauseous, he’s not experiencing anything typically ascribed with being ill.

But that giddy sort of buzz he’s had since the shipyard has taken a sharp turn. Now it’s almost unbearable. He’s fidgety and restless and irritable. Lights are too bright, sounds too loud. He was snappish with almost everyone he talked to at work today and he feels like shit about it, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He still can’t, glaring at everyone he sees as if they’re responsible for whatever the fuck is wrong with him.

And he doesn’t get it. Not at all. Rationally he knows no one is to blame for his weird emotional state. Logically he tries to come up with ways to fix it – exercise, sleep, mindless television watching or video game playing or something, _anything,_ to get him out of this funk. But he can’t seem to hold to either rationality or logic. All he can zero in on is this uncomfortable knot forming within him.

 _Maybe it’s a vitamin deficiency_? Is his mind’s latest brilliant idea as he drives home and he’s honked his horn more times today that he ever has in his entire life. But the way everyone is driving just sets his teeth on edge. They could go faster or break smoother or just be better drivers in general and really, part of him recognizes that that’s not true, that he’s being a dick. But…he can’t help it.

It’s like there’s something sharp caught up inside him, a razor hook that pricks and tugs at his nerve endings in the most annoying fashion and _oh my god, they could have made that light_! He lays on his horn again, teeth grinding into powder and he draws in a loud breath through his nose as he tries to get a grip on himself.

 _This is all Shane’s fault_ , his thoughts hiss and he shakes his head to himself.

_No. No, it’s not._

_It is.  It all started with him. He took me to the shipyard, he got sick, he infected me._

_That’s not what happened. And even if it is, it’s not like he got sick on purpose. And if he's infectious, it’s my fault for going to see him._

_Oh, it’s_ **always our fault, isn't it? It's never his** _._

 _‘Our’?_ Ryan cuts off his own thoughts and pays attention to the road because…okay, everyone talks to themselves. Answers themselves. It’s not all _that_ unnatural. Talking to yourself in your own mind. But just now it was…different. It was almost like Ryan was _two_ people. It was as if he’d just shared a conversation, an argument, with someone else in his mind. Or some _thing_ else.

He looks in his rearview mirror and his dark eyes are a bit wild. He remembers the reflection in the mirror. The one of him laughing and looking so unhinged. Christ, he has _got_ to be getting sick. It’s the only rational explanation. He’s seeing things. He’s working too hard. He needs to rest up. That’s all it is. That’s all that makes sense.

He parks his car and sits for a few moments in his space, hands aching because he realizes he’s got the steering wheel in a death grip. His nerves are really rattled. He lets the wheel go and sighs, resting his head back against the seat, eyes closed. He breathes in and out, a little bit of meditation to try and center himself because he’s just, he’s acting crazy.

Once he feels a semblance of calm he opens his eyes and sees the rear view mirror warble and shake. The glass vibrates and he swears he sees himself twice. He sees himself in the driver’s seat, but he also sees himself in the backseat. The Ryan in the back seat has an abnormally big smile and all jet black eyes. He lets out a little cry as he turns and there is _nothing_ there. The back seat is empty. He looks at the rear view mirror again, grips it hard with his right hand and it’s _fine_. It’s normal. It’s _normal_. There’s nothing there, there’s nothing-!

 _Snap_!

The rear view mirror breaks off in his hand. He drops it like it’s on fire. It tumbles loudly to the floor of the passenger side seat. What the fuck?

“What the fuck!” the words come out in that high pitch he hates to hear on camera. That _frightened_ pitch.

But he just started hearing shit in his mind and saw a dark vision of himself in the back seat and broke off his rear view mirror. How is none of that frightening? He scrambles out of his car, locks it with shaking fingers and practically races up to his apartment. Once inside he collapses back against his door and tries to catch his breath (and his sanity) because everything that just happened in the last few minutes is impossible. It’s _impossible_.

Ryan starts pacing around, mind working overtime. Okay, okay – so how to explain what just happened? There _has_ to be an explanation. Shane’s so good with explanations. Gas leaks and nearby maintenance men whistling and him tossing his stuff up near his toothpaste to make it rise up _and_ fall and there’s an explanation for what happened downstairs, for everything lately, there _has_ to be.

Okay, okay – so, the rear view mirror? It was just…wobbling from the drive? Yes! Yeah, yeah – okay, okay, sure – he was driving awfully fast to get home because of how off he’s been feeling lately. And the off feeling? He _is_ getting sick. Maybe the true symptoms haven’t hit him yet, but he’s getting there, of course he is! Last he saw Shane, he was flushed and trembling, he was _panting_ , and Ryan will be like that too! Sure, any minute now he’ll be just as sick and feeble.

And the creepy version of himself he saw in the mirror? That was just his eyes playing tricks on him. Of course he looked deranged, he’s caught some bug, so naturally he’s going to look evil and no, no, not _evil_. Just…bad. He looked _bad_ , like _sick_ bad not _demon_ bad and demons, who’s thinking about demons? Not him! Not by a long shot!

Oh, and when he broke the mirror? It’s been in his car _forever_. Intense sunlight and temperature extremes and things just worked that plastic and metal so it just – it just came off in his hands like it was nothing. Rear view mirrors are easy to break off with one hand – so, so easy. Yes, yes! This all sounds very good, very convincing, everything’s been addressed nice and neat and he’s just going to forget all about it! That’s exactly what he’s going to do.

He stops his pacing and eyes his phone. Maybe he should check in on Shane. Maybe he should ask him if anything like this happened to…

…no. No, that would make him come across as a crazy person, which he is not. Besides, Shane needs his rest. Just like Ryan. Ryan should get some sleep. Sleep would help. Sleep _will_ help. Mind made up, he goes straight to his room. Ryan clambers into his bed, drawing his blankets up high and he actually laughs aloud.

God, he’s like a little kid hiding under the sheets. The idea oddly cheers him. He really did write everything off in a believable fashion. He has no reason to be stressed or scared. He gets more comfortable, adjusting his pillows and lying back with a heavy sigh. Maybe he should click on his TV; fall asleep to some random white noise-ish sitcom. After all, it’s not like he wants to sleep the night away. This would be more like a nap and naps are legitimately the best thing in the whole world.

Ryan will probably take one only to wake hours later and find the world right as rain. Or find himself finally suffering from some signs of what Shane has no doubt given him. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind a runny nose right about now. It would just fit perfectly within his narrative of current events. He fidgets on his mattress, debating getting up just long enough to chuck his jeans, draw on some pajama bottoms or hey, maybe he’ll just sleep in his boxers, because why not?

In fact, mind made, he does just that. He draws his jeans off and crumples them up into a ball, tossing them towards his bedroom door. It hits it with a hefty whump and he snickers to himself as he thinks ‘ _nothing but net_ ’, never mind the fact that there is no basketball net on the back of his bedroom door. Hmm. Maybe he should get one. Might be fun to dunk his dirty clothes again like he did when he was a kid.

He’s under his blankets and feeling loads better, a laxness taking his bones, eyelids drooping just a tad as he looks at his jeans at the door and sees a pool of shadows grow beneath them. The shadow is disproportionate to the light in the room. To the object on the floor. The shadow _moves_. It slithers along his carpet and Ryan’s throat is being _squeezed_. Fear lodges deep in the center of his heart, radiates out in cold ripples along his nervous system and his next breath when it comes out hits the air in a cloud.

The air in the room is freezing. He has a death grip on the blankets now. They're clutched under his chin as the shadow moves beneath his bed and oh no, no, _no_. It's beneath his bed. It’s beneath him. The moving, _living_ shadow he saw is beneath his bed. Ryan doesn’t move, doesn’t breath, doesn’t think. His heart's not beating, he’s stiff and inanimate.

And that’s when the pale hand appears at the foot of his bed. It reaches up and grips a big, hefty handful of the blanket and tugs. Hard. A noise squeaks out of Ryan’s throat as his grip on the blanket is lost to the hand from beneath his bed. The one that just keeps pulling at the blanket. Pulling and pulling until the blanket disappears beneath the bed frame.

Ryan is huddled now against the headboard, burrowed as close to it and the wall as possible as the hand reaches up higher and is followed by a shape. A twisted, contorted shape that he slowly realizes with dawning horror is a human body, but a human body bent all backwards, arms and legs akimbo and _wrong_.

And the _head_.

The head is upside down on the neck and quaking and it has _Ryan’s_ face. It smiles at Ryan with Ryan’s own smile, teeth white and glittering bright. Eyes cold, black, bottomless pits and this atrocious skittering laugh echoes out of it as it charges up the mattress towards Ryan and he can’t hold it back anymore, can’t hold back the _scream_.

Ryan shields himself with his arms ready for the worst when suddenly his door bursts open. It _bursts_. And _Shane’s_ there. It’s Shane fucking Madej. But it’s _not_ Shane.

Because this Shane has the same eyes as the fucking monster at the edge of his bed! And wings! And horns and claws and, and, and-!

One of Shane’s clawed hands reaches out and slashes at the creature and it dissipates into black, shadowy smoke. A smoke that slithers out of the room with reckless speed, seeping out through the edges of the bedroom’s window frame. Once it’s gone, Shane looks at a cowering Ryan and his black eyes slowly change to their normal human hue.

They look at one another, the moment unbelievable and impossible and finally Shane just coughs and scratches at the back of his neck, looking beyond sheepish as he murmurs, “Um. Yeah. So. We should talk.”


	5. Chapter 5

Shane has imagined this moment a thousand different times and in a thousand different ways.

Being assigned the task of watching over Ryan had been his first real job in decades. It’d been doled out to him by a higher level in his cabal because he requested work, _any_ work. He’d been sleeping far too long and he wanted distraction, even if just for a little while.

Ryan had become a person of interest since his first visit to the Queen Mary. The Haunt Crew - an assemblage of ghosts, poltergeists, and demons - had been on board that day reawakening old cold spots and hushed whispers. In other words; doing their job to make the ship a continued ‘haunted’ locale. Ryan’s rather boisterous disbelief had torqued off some low level who had decided to have a little fun with him – poking him in the face, knocking his shit around and so on.

This had had the unforeseen consequence of making Ryan _believe_. And believe enough to be witnessed in a rather spectacular vision by some high ranking oracle. Now, normally, oracles and their visions are touted as bullshit, but apparently this one was enough of a doozy to place Ryan under the watch list, thus making him Shane’s assignment.

Honestly, Shane never expected to work with Ryan as long as he has. He’d been positive the whole thing was a fluke (Again, see oracle. Again, see, bullshit) and that eventually they’d part ways and Shane would go back to sleep or to another locale or whatever.

What he hadn’t anticipated was enjoying the job and enjoying Ryan’s company. For the first time in thousands of years, he was entertained. He was _happy_. He liked denouncing all of Ryan’s beliefs and making the show and interacting with some pretty fun humans on a regular basis. He still does.

But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t imagined what it would be like if Ryan found out the truth. And in all those myriads of imaginings, the one he finally, _finally_ , gets is nothing like he pictured at all.

Which is a rushed exhalation of breath and a smile, “Well, this is a relief.”

Shane is standing here – wings and horns and tail on full display and Ryan says it’s a _relief_? Shane frowns and opens his mouth and then closes it again because, wow, he’s actually at a loss for words. The highest on his list had been screaming. He was positive Ryan was going to scream. Or throw something at him. Maybe laugh or fall into hysterics. But relief?

Ryan looks so relaxed now, eyes bright and a smile on his face as he lets out a chuckle, one hand pressed hard over his heart, “Dude, you – _fuck_ – you really got me, man! You got me good.”

“I…what?” This is all Shane can manage.

“It all makes sense now,” Ryan crows, “You being ‘sick’ and the weird shit I’ve been seeing. How did you even do it? You couldn’t have done it alone.”

Shane blinks and then it starts to sink in. Ryan thinks this is a _joke_.

“Who helped you? Are they here? Was it Zach? Devin? I know TJ has to be somewhere…” Ryan hops out of his bed and starts inspecting his room like mad. He’s looking for little cameras or listening devices or something and Shane’s tail actually flicks with annoyance, “Ryan.”

His friend doesn’t answer him, too fixated on the window the shadow creature escaped from, “And how’d you do that creepy ass monster? Was it some sort of light projection? I didn’t think we had anything at the office like that. What about the bit with the bed?”

Ryan nearly dives under it, “I don’t see anything down here, but something grabbed my covers. Is it hooked up into the mattress?”

“Ryan…”

He’s at Shane’s side now, inspecting the ruined door, “And this? Did you rig it or something? You totally owe me a new door by the way, because as cool as this is, you fucking ruined my door.”

“Ryan, stop,” Shane says gently and he expects Ryan to listen, but he doesn’t. He’s amped, keyed up to a whole other level and bouncing on the balls of his feet, “How did you even get into my place? Someone must have made a copy of my keys or something and that’s tricky, so bonus points there. And extra, extra bonus points for _this_.”

He gestures at all of Shane, “I mean, I never took you as the cosplay type, but you went full out. Tons better than that crap we wore in Salem. This is the real deal. How much did this set you back? Or did Buzzfeed foot the bill? Probably did. Bet this video will go up and fast and get about a billion likes because viewers just love me screeching and this’ll get way more hits than the Sallie house, but you didn’t say anything, like some stupid catchphrase they could put on a shirt like ‘hey Ryan, I’m knock, knock, knockin’ on your door’ or something stupid like-!”

Ryan’s rambles end abruptly when Shane comes closer and he flinches just that little bit, steps back, and at long last Shane can see it. _Fear_. It’s beneath the jittery excitement and Shane’s going to ignore how much it hurts. Normally he delights in Ryan’s fear, but this time – when it’s directed at him in this way – it hurts. Sighing, his hands go to the pockets of his jacket, “Ryan, this isn’t a prank.”

“Y-yeah right,” Ryan laughs and he stands up straighter, gets closer, “You’re so fucking full of it. Where is everybody? I’m surprised they can resist charging in here to laugh in my face. And hey, let me see that.”

He reaches out for Shane’s tail, which can be about as active as a cat’s when he’s in the right frame of mind, and it easily evades Ryan’s questing fingers, “Is this thing animatronic? How do you even get it to stay attached to you? Is there a harness under your clothes? That would make sense, actually, because these wings…”

Ryan walks around Shane’s back and looks at his wings, “They’re impressive, but they have to be heavy. I’m surprised you don’t topple over. Can they expand or-?”

Shane _does_ expand them, not to their full length, but enough to suggest they aren’t fake. He plans on using that as a proving point as he opens his mouth, but Ryan beats him to the punch, “That’s-that’s cool! They’re clearly kind of twitchy though. Not calibrated enough to move smoothly, but still, they _have_ to be heavy. And I like the rips on your clothes, like all of it just busted straight out and man, the work you put in for this is just fucking _insane_.”

“Ryan,” Shane’s tone is a little firmer now because this is getting ridiculous and the guy needs to just stop but now he’s come full circle, back to Shane’s front and he’s up in his face, far closer to him than he’s ever been. Ryan’s all up in Shane’s personal bubble and he can feel Ryan’s breath on his face when he speaks, “I guess I should say 'you guys' because again, this couldn’t have been done alone…Jen? Jen! Are you here? Look at these things…”

Ryan reaches up and starts stroking Shane’s right horn with his index finger and _ohhhkay_ , that's enough of that! Shane captures Ryan’s wrist and puts some much needed space between them, “Ryan, listen to me, this is not a joke. No one else is here. I’m…I’m…”

He has a chance to say it after all this time and he can’t?

Why? What the fuck?

 _Shame_ , the word comes to his mind and he scowls because, goddamn it, he’s not _ashamed_ of being a fucking demon! He’s not! He’s been one since the beginning. _Fallen_ , is the next word his mind supplies and fuck the doctor for bringing that seriously old bit of trivia up, because he hasn’t thought about it in _forever_. He hasn’t thought about it, because it doesn’t matter. Angels fall, they become demons. Boo hoo - big fucking deal.

He wouldn’t have made it with the saintly set anyway, he’s met some of them and as far as he can tell they’re all a bunch of stuck up toolbags. Besides, his general demeanor isn’t angelic. He’s demonic, baby, and he likes it. So, there’s no reason to stall and he releases Ryan’s wrist as he finally admits, “I’m a demon.”

“Yeah, sure you are,” Ryan blows a raspberry, “And I’m a unicorn! C’mon, where is everybody hiding?”

“They’re not,” Shane groans, beyond annoyed now, “Ryan, I’m telling you the truth. It’s just you and me here and I’m a _demon_.”

He puts as much emphasis on the word as he possibly can. Ryan rolls his eyes and goes towards his nightstand, opening the top drawer, “Alright, fine. If you’re a demon, you can handle this.”

He draws out the same water pistol he had at the Goatman’s bridge and Shane can’t stop a wheeze of laughter, “You kept that?”

“Of course I did.”

“Why?”

“For moments like this.”

“What? Moments where your friends come busting in to announce they’re demons? And why in your nightstand? I’ve only ever come into your bedroom like, once or twic-?”

His words are cut off as Ryan shoots him in the face. The water dribbles down his forehead, over his nose and down his chin. He sputters as Ryan keeps shooting, soaking his face and hair, “See? You’re not a demon. You’re just a long limbed imbecile. How’re you liking the shower, dumb ass?”

“It,” Shane has to start and stop to spit because Ryan is _still_ shooting water and a lot of it is going right in his mouth, “It d- _pah_!-oesn’t- _psh!_ -w-work lik- _ah_!-e that!”

“Come again?” Ryan snorts and Shane moves fast, arm snapping out like a coiled snake, one hand taking the plastic gun and crushing it, “I said, it doesn’t work like that.”

Little bits of broken plastic crumple to the carpet and Ryan looks at the ruined toy in his friend’s grip, “Wow. That’s…”

Shane drops the gun entirely, waits.

“I knew that gun was cheap, but not _that_ cheap.”

Shane deflates, “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Maybe the water eroded the inside of it?”

Shane wipes a hand over his face, not only to dry it from the water, but also to get a grip on himself so he doesn’t strangle his friend, “ _Ryan_. The water didn’t have shit to do with it! I’m a demon, okay? I’m stronger than a human being. I crushed it. I could have crushed that apple back when we did the Anneliese bit, but I played it up like I couldn’t. Holy water doesn’t work on me, but it can work on other demons and for Christ’s sake, you say you believe, so why don’t you believe me when I’m telling you, to your face, that I’m a DEMON.”

The last comes out louder and more heated than he would like, but for fuck’s sake! Ryan keeps trying to explain it all away and Shane’s sick of it. He just wants to get the ugly part of the conversation out of the way. They have far more important things to deal with; they can’t waste time on shit like this.

Frankly, Shane didn’t even think they _would_ waste time on shit like this. Ryan so readily believes in the slightest things as possible paranormal proof and here is Shane, showing him evidence without a doubt and he’s standing here, rationalizing it. Something he’s clearly not ready to let go of yet, “Maybe I’d believe you if you weren’t wearing the most stereotypical devil get up ever.”

Shane shakes his head, “I’m not the devil, Ryan. Last I heard he was far too busy here in Los Angeles himself to bother with what any of us are doing. And as for how I look, some demons have the whole tail, horns, wings thing and some don’t. It depends on what kind of demon you are.”

“Oh, so there’s different kinds of demons now,” Ryan’s tone is churlish and his arms cross and Shane really is reaching a breaking point, “Okay smart guy, what about this?”

He lets his eyes turn black.

“Contacts.”

“Contacts?” Shane cries and returns his eyes to their normal human shade, “How the fuck do my ‘contacts’ disappear on a whim then, huh? Explain that one!”

“I-I don’t know! I don’t know how far contacts technology has come in the-!”

“Oh for the love of-! Fine! Here, here – I’ll show you!” Shane grumbles and he struggles to chuck off his jacket before he starts unbuttoning his shirt. Ryan turns a brilliant shade of red, “W-whoa, okay, wh-what’re you-? Dude! You-you d-don’t have t-!”

His words cut off as Shane finishes stripping his clothes and turns, showing how his wings are directly, and very visibly, attached to his body, “See? They’re real! They’re part of me. No harness, no costume, no nothing! All me, buddy boy!”

Shane stretches his wings out and in again, a little flap just to prove they’re not fakes. Ryan doesn’t say anything. Instead he just…he _stands_ there. He’s shoved up near his nightstand, his broken holy water gun at his feet, and he’s looking at Shane like he doesn’t know him. Like Shane’s a stranger and this hurts worse than that little flash of fear earlier.

This awful look of non-recognition. Shane turns back to see it and his heart is aching and he doesn’t know what the hell to do now other than get redressed. His shirt ended up near his coat on the bed and when he goes to reach for it, it’s clear Ryan thinks he’s reaching for him as he jolts hard. The nightstand behind him makes a loud clattering sound as Ryan’s arms go up. They cross right up in front of his face as if to shield himself, protect himself. Protect himself from Shane.

The aching in Shane’s heart is gone as it’s ripped neatly in two, “Ryan…”

He makes a disagreeable sound followed by a clear, “No, no. Nope. No.”

Ryan side steps Shane and goes directly into his bathroom, shutting the door smartly behind him. Shane hears the lock click and curses.

 

+

 

Ryan sits on the closed lid of the toilet and stares at nothing.

He blinks and he breathes and he stares. Shane has wings. Shane has horns. Shane has a tail. Shane is…

Ryan covers his face with his hands. He presses on his closed eyelids until he sees stars.  This can’t be real. It can’t be. He’s having some sort of weird nervous breakdown. Or his friends are taking the prank way too far. He can’t believe this. He can’t believe it. Demons aren’t real. No, wait, demons _are_ real, but they’re not like this. They’re not _Shane_.

Shane being a demon is a joke. It’s a joke they’ve even made before. It’s so funny. Ha ha ha (wheeze). Shane the demon! It’s like Ryan as Ricky. It’s a stupid thing they made up or their fans made up and it is in no way real and…

…and he has _wings_. Ryan saw the wings, the way the red muscles jointed perfectly into his pale back. A smooth, flawless connection. Like arms in a socket, an easy traverse of skin, of musculature and bone. Okay, but he doesn’t normally have wings. Or horns or a tail. They’re normally not there. They’re only there right now. Last time he saw him, Shane didn’t have any of that. So he must have attached them, right?

Attached all that shit and then burst in and his bedroom door had been splinters and that thing under the bed...what was that thing? It had looked oh, so real and it had had his face. It had been twisted and horrifying only to dissolve into nothing and disappear and none of this can be real. This isn’t real life. He’s dreaming. Or in a coma. Or have a psychotic break or-? There are so many, _many_ explanations and all of them are better than the idea that Shane is a demon and that the supernatural is real.

Ryan’s been touting the supernatural as real, ghosts as real, demons as – but his belief it isn’t…it isn’t _this_. This is not what it is. What he’s held to is different from what he’s seen. But he _did_ see it. Shane crushed that toy like it was nothing. But the water didn’t burn him. Maybe holy water becomes weaker over time? It probably needs continual blessings for it to work and no, Shane is _not_ a demon, so that’s why it didn’t burn him.

Ryan chews on one thumbnail then the other, mind working overtime. There has to be a logical answer to all of this. He hears a gentle tap on the door and leaps up so fast he hears his knees pop. Shane’s voice is entirely too soft on the other side, “Hey Ry? You in there?”

“You saw me come in here, what do you think?” Ryan snaps and Shane huffs, “Just making sure you didn’t…I don’t know. Do anything drastic.”

“Like what? Poop myself?”

“I was thinking something more along the lines of…” he trails off as if he can’t say what and comes back with, “Something else.”

“Yeah, I’m not sitting in here slitting my wrists, thanks.” Ryan hates how waspish he sounds but whatever; his friend just told him he’s a demon. He’s allowed to be a little bitchy. He paces some and tries to think of what the hell to do.

Call the police? Yeah, right. ‘Hello officer, I need you to get over here quick! My friend grew horns and there was a monster under my bed!’ _That’ll_ go over well. Maybe he can get in touch with one of his other friends? But what the hell is he going to say? ‘Hey, Zack? Yeah, Shane’s got a tail and I’ve been seeing creepy clones of myself in mirrors’. Again, that’s a no go.

Maybe he’ll just stay in his bathroom forever. Of course, there is a mirror in here and he certainly hasn’t been having luck with those lately. Shit, he hasn’t been having _any_ luck at all since the shipyard and the shipyard…it was Shane’s brilliant idea to go there and hey, maybe the guy outside isn’t even Shane. Maybe it _is_ a demon, one who’s replaced Shane.

Or maybe Shane did get sick and he died and this demon is possessing his body. Or maybe – god, there are about a million fucking ‘maybes’ in this situation. Ryan hears another light tap and glares at the door, “What?”

“Nothing. I just…” Shane sounds so reluctant, so unlike himself. It’s like he’s worried Ryan will shatter and Ryan is not some weakling or a coward. He’s said many times that he is when it comes to demons. He has, but he’ll be damned if he’s one in this situation. That he’s a coward here because of _Shane_ and with this burst of courage, he opens the door.

Shane stands there with one arm propped up against the top of the door frame (god, he’s stupidly tall) and his horns, wings and tail are gone. His expression is so ridiculously remorseful that Ryan wants to hit him, “Where’d your shit go?”

“My-?”

“Your dumb horns and wings and-!”

“I, ah, I thought you’d like it better if-?”

“Bring them back. Go on.”

Shane looks embarrassed and for two seconds Ryan wonders if it’s rude to ask or something, but then brushes it off because he’d rather focus on his own anger right now and when Shane’s horns reappear Ryan’s lips tighten into a thin line, “So. You’re a demon.”

“Yes.”

“All this time,” It’s not a question so much as an accusation.

“Yes.”

“And you’re the _real_ Shane Madej? Not some demon masquerading as him.”

“It’s me, Ryan. I’m Shane. The same Shane you’ve known for the past couple of years, the same Shane you work with, the same Shane who’s your friend.”

That last bit clenches it. Ryan sucker punches him right in the middle of his face.

Shane’s head snaps back neatly as he yelps, “ _Ahh_! _Fuck_! What-!?”

“Are you kidding me!?” Ryan explodes, even as he shakes out the hand he struck Shane with, “ _What_? I’ll _tell_ you what! You’re an ASSHOLE!”

Ryan uses his non-aching hand to point out of the room, “Get the fuck out of my apartment! I rescind my invitation!”

“Aw geez, _fuck_ ,” Shane hisses and he’s rubbing at the bridge of his nose, eyes glittering with pain as he scowls, “I’m not a _vampire_ , Ryan! And even if I was, that wouldn’t work on them either!”

“Oh, so now you’re the supernatural expert?” he sneers.

“Well, being one, _yeah_. I know a hell of a lot more about it than you do,” Shane’s tone is bitter and Ryan throws his hands up in disgust, “Whatever. I’m going to find a cross. I’m sure I’ve got one here some place.”

Ryan’s mind races as he tries to think of where he might have stashed one and Shane’s shaking his head even as he continues to worry over his face, “Look, I don’t react to that kind of crap. Yeah, some demons do, but those demons are either Hell born or ones with daddy issues. I don’t fall into either of those categories, so you might as well save yourself the search.”

“Well, tell me what will work so I can get you out of my face!”

Shane’s finally had it, his ire up just as much as Ryan’s, “You could, oh, I don’t know – ask me nicely like a regular person, you dickhead!”

“I’M the dickhead?!” Ryan bellows, “Are you-? Are you fucking _kidding_ me! You’re a DEMON, Shane! And you’re a liar!”

“I did not _lie_!”

“Bullshit!” Ryan snaps back and Shane glares at him, “You never _asked_ me if I was a demon!”

Ryan is beyond livid, “That’s splitting hairs and you fucking know it! You told me you don’t believe in ghosts or believe in demons and yet here you are, the whole time, probably laughing at me behind my back about-!”

“I have _not_ been laughing at you behind your back, you egotistical son of a-! _Ack_! My fucking nose!” Shane is still toying with the bridge of it where Ryan punched him. Ryan lets out a hefty, irritated breath, “Stop it, I know it couldn’t have hurt all that much.”

“You’re right. It didn’t hurt all that much – it hurt a _fuckton_. Jesus, I didn’t even know you could throw a punch like that,” Shane mutters and Ryan has no idea what’s come over him as he tugs the big guy into the restroom with him, “Here, sit down and let me take a look at it, you big baby.”

Shane sits on the closed toilet seat and Ryan inspects his face. There’s a fine red line of blood right at the very top of Shane’s nose and Ryan can see that it’s probably going to purple. He curses under his breath, “Yeah, your eyes might get a little black. Bit of a cut too.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, well, how do you think my hand feels,” Ryan examines the knuckles of the hand he punched Shane with. There’s some cut skin there as well and he can see the beginnings of his own bruising.

“Where did you even learn to throw a punch like that?”

“Eh, I learned it when I…” Ryan stops, shaking his head, “Damn, what am I even doing? You’re a lying demon bastard and I’m not going to tell you shit!”

Shane’s shoulders droop and his eyes – those dopey ass brown eyes of his – take on that kicked puppy look. How can a demon of all things even _manage_ a look like that? Ryan points at him, “Don’t give me that! You’re a liar and a demon and you know it!”

If anything, Shane manages to look even more dejected. Now it’s like a kicked puppy that’s licking its lips in dismay. The worst kind of sad puppy. Ryan breathes in through his nose and goes into the cabinet above the toilet, “Hang on.”

He digs out some antiseptic and a wash cloth as well as some Band-Aids. He pours a bit of the antiseptic on the cloth and goes to dab at Shane’s face. Shane sits there, eyes still avoiding his, and Ryan knows he should just hand him the cloth, let him take care of himself. But instead some stupid sense of empathy takes hold of him and he does it.

He brushes it gently over Shane’s face and Shane doesn’t even flinch. He cleans the wound and then carefully sticks the Band-Aid over top. Shane’s lips twitch and he says dryly, “Thanks. Now are you gonna kiss it and make it better?”

Heat creeps up the back of Ryan’s neck and he ignores how his cheeks burn, “Shut up.”

Shane actually takes that advice for once. They’re locked in this sort of odd, quiet stalemate until Ryan’s injured hand flexes involuntarily. Shane must catch the motion because he gets up and murmurs, “Your turn.”

Ryan switches places with him and now it’s Shane rooting around in the restroom cabinet. Ryan is reaching this point where he honestly doesn’t even know what’s happening anymore. Everything has been turned on its head and now here they are in this weird bubble. Shane administers as much gentle care to Ryan’s hand as he did to his face and honestly, what the hell? Ryan should do this. He doesn’t need to be coddled like a toddler who tripped and skinned his knee.

But there’s something about the moment that feels…good. Companionable. Shane finishes putting on the bandages and worries his lower lip between his teeth, “You should probably ice this.”

“Yean,” Ryan mumbles and gets to his feet. He exits his restroom and steps over the ruins of his bedroom door before going straight for the kitchen. He can hear Shane behind him as he opens the freezer. He draws out an ice tray and before he can do more, Shane takes it from him, cracks it over the sink and collects some of the cubes up in a dish towel, handing it back to him.

Ryan puts the towel over his hand and hisses at the mixture of pain and cool relief. Then he looks at his friend. His _demon_ friend. His friend who is still all horns and wings and tail and honestly, Ryan actually forgot about all of it for a little bit. It was like he didn’t even see it anymore and it’s way too soon for that. If there’s ever a time for it at all.

He eyes the front door of his apartment. Unlike his bedroom door, it’s not mere wood and it looks pretty damn solid, still firmly locked. He looks at Shane, “How did you even get into my place?”

Shane scratches at the back of his head and Ryan’s seen this before. It’s Shane’s ‘I’m uncomfortable’ tell. He shrugs as he confesses, “I…I sort of teleported in.”

“What; like Nightcrawler? Just ‘bamfed’ in?”

“Sort of,” Shane’s lips twitch in amusement, “Good reference.”

“Thank you. You’ve…done that before?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, that was a…a first.”

“I see,” Ryan says this, but he really doesn’t.

Shane shrugs, “Earlier today I was at a doctor’s appointment-”

“Let me guess,” He cuts in smartly, “Witch doctor?”

“No,” Shane says as if annoyed at the suggestions only to follow up with, “A vampire.”

“Ah, of course. Why not?” Ryan grumbles at Shane’s matter of fact-ness, more so as he just picks up with, “And after that I went home for a bit and then decided to come see you and, um, well there are some circumstances, which I will explain, that made it so I sensed you were in trouble and I just – well, I went through the door without thinking about it. But I’ve never been able to do something like that before.”

“Okay, but what about the thing under my bed? Was that a demon too?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” Ryan scoffs, not believing him for an instant but Shane is looking at him with such earnest as to make him fidget, “I swear, Ryan, I don’t know what that thing was.”

“How can I believe you?” Ryan asks the question that’s been weighing on him the hardest since this truth came to light, “How can I ever believe anything you say ever again?”

For someone so tall, Shane sure looks small. He’s cowed, lowly and stooped, as if utterly defeated and when he speaks his voice wavers, “You…you can’t, I guess.”

Ryan is not encouraged by this at all. If anything, he feels even more gutted. But Shane isn’t done, “Look, I know I lost your trust. And I get why, I do. But you have to understand – I couldn’t tell you.”

“But you can tell me now?”

“Things are different now. Something happened…” Shane looks more torn than Ryan’s ever seen him and it makes Ryan unbelievably uneasy. Shane’s always been so unflappable. Seeing him like this is scary. An insidious thought enters his mind and Ryan’s eyes go wide, “You’re-you’re not like, dying or anything. Right?”

“What? No.”

“Am…am I dying?”

Shane says ‘no’ even as Ryan barrels on, his thoughts picking up with terrifying speed, “Am I dying and you’re here to drag me to hell!”

“No, Ryan, you’re not dying. Calm down.”

“Fuck you, you calm down,” Ryan returns quickly; but in that way they do when they’re riffing off one another. It strangely helps. They both relax just that little bit and when Shane speaks again, he sounds more like himself, “Look, remember when we went to the shipyard?”

Ryan uses his uninjured hand to smack the nearby kitchen counter, “Ha! I knew it!  I knew something weird happened then, because it was right after that that all this weird shit started to happen, like that crap with the mirror and the shadow creature and _oh_ , you son of a bitch! You always said you discounted shadow stuff and here tonight we saw-!” his words suddenly cut off as an excitement claims him, “Ghosts!”

Shane groans, head tilting back, eyes on the ceiling, as Ryan points at him, “Ghosts are real, aren’t they?”

“Ryan.”

“Say it! Say ghosts are real!” 

“Ryan, that’s not the point.”

“Bullshit that’s not the point! I’ve been arguing with you about this for years! And now you go and reveal you’re a demon and I’m seeing literal monsters crawling out from under my bed – ones with my freakin’ face, by the way  –  and the fact that I didn’t piss myself is still a mystery, but the point is; ghosts are _real._ Now say it _.”_

Ryan’s practically vibrating as he waits for the words he’s been dying to hear from his friend forever. Shane’s head lowers, eyes narrowed, “You’d rather I say that then explain to why I never told you the truth?”

Realizing even now he’s not going to get what he wants, Ryan lets out a sigh and nods, “Fine. Tell me. Tell me everything.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Shane’s not sure where to start and he feels like he’s hedging when he says, “There’s a lot to tell…”

But also, it’s the truth. There is so much more to his world than anyone knows, but he finally decides whatever ties directly to Ryan is probably the best place to begin.

“Let me make an extremely long story short. I took you to the shipyard for your birthday because I wanted you to get some _real_ proof of the supernatural. Unfortunately what I didn’t count on was two feral demons showing up and them trying to eat your soul, so, I, uh, y’know,” he slides one quick finger across his throat, “took care of ‘em, but you still got hurt, so I had to pass some energy on to you and that makes it so I can now tell you about this stuff.”

Shane has never felt more awkward and Ryan’s surprisingly good poker face is not helping. Eventually his eyebrows rise and when he speaks his tone is colored with pure skepticism, “You killed two demons?”

He shrugs and nods jerkily.

“ _You_ did?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Really?”

The awkwardness gives way to annoyance, “Why’s that so hard to believe?”

Ryan’s laugh is loud and brash, “Are you kidding? Where do you want me to start?”

“Hey! I can, y’know, be fierce when I want to be.”

“You?” Ryan sputters and Shane scowls, “Alright, I’ll admit I’m not – not going to step into a UFC ring or anything, but when it comes to it, I can fight.”

“How? When I punched you, you started getting weepy!”

“I did n-!,” he starts then counters with, “I wasn’t expecting _you_ to punch me!”

Ryan’s already shaking his head, “As if I shouldn’t have decked you! You’re lucky I didn’t do more! And now you’re trying to convince me you _actually_ murdered-!”

“Whoa! Murder is an ugly word!”

“Are they dead?”

“I mean, sort of.”

“Sort of?!”

Shane sighs and he’d rub at his eyes if he didn’t want to agitate the spot Ryan hit, “Demons don’t really die. Dying would imply we have souls that will be judged and go to Hell or Heaven.”

“You don’t have a _soul_ ,” this is said in a way where Shane can’t help but laugh, mainly because Ryan sounds so shrilly scandalized, “Not the way most beings do. We’re energy.”

“How the fuck is that different from a soul?”

“Trust me, it’s different. It’s been a bone of contention for a long time. Beings with souls have more access to free will. Beings with souls can go to Heaven or Hell. They have an extra run at existence. The ones without just,” his face screws up here, because it’s so damned hard to explain, “We dissolve.”

“What? Like…you’re nothing? You die and that’s just it for you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Damn,” Ryan blinks, “That…that sucks.”

“Yup,” Shane pops the ‘p’ on that and Ryan eyes him, “What happened to them? To the demons you ‘killed’,” he finger quotes this and Shane makes a face at him, “Don’t do that. I _did_ smite them.”

“Oh my god! D-did you just you call it ‘smiting’?” Ryan chortles, “How-how Old Testament!”

“It’s not funny.”

“Oh please! You’re telling me if I used the phrase ‘I smited them’ in a conversation, you wouldn’t laugh?”

“…yeah alright, you’ve got a point there,” Shane relents and Ryan grins, “Okay, so you ‘smited’ them and then what?”

“It’s like I said, they became energy, which transferred to me and I passed it to you, because you were, ah…hurt.”

“I don’t remember it, man. How hurt was I?” Ryan asks this so innocently and something in Shane’s face or demeanor must tip him off, because Ryan’s eyes grow saucer big, “Holy shit – did I die?!”

“Well…”

“HOLY SHIT!”

“Ryan…”

“I _DIED_!”

“Just…” Shane holds up a hand as if this will calm him, but Ryan looks like he’s about to lose it, “Is that why I don’t remember what happened?”

“No, you don’t remember because I called Clean Up.”

Ryan’s dismay quickly turns to confusion and Shane sucks in a breath, “I told you there’s a lot to tell. Clean Up is a service supernatural creatures use when something might come to light in the mortal world. Mass psychic mind wipes, replacement of damaged property – the works.”

Ryan looks a little sick, “I…I should probably sit down.”

Shane nods, “It _is_ a long conversation.”

Ryan clicks on a light in his living room and pretty much collapses on his couch. Shane takes a seat in a nearby armchair and looks at Ryan thoughtfully. For all intents and purposes, his friend is taking this news much better than he thought he would. In a way, he’s ashamed of thinking so little of him. Ryan’s always been open to impossible scenarios. Shane should have recognized that. But also, his world is pretty damn crazy.

After his meeting with Qyrora he’d gone home and stewed for a long time about how to broach all of this with Ryan. There’s so much he wants to tell him and still so much more he wants to keep close to the vest. Mainly because some of it makes him extremely uncomfortable. He isn’t all that thrilled at the idea of letting Ryan in on his fallen angel status, much less the bond. _Especially_ the bond, because he highly doubts Ryan will take the news of their ‘marriage’ well.

Ryan has more than once made the point of how they’re not a couple to fans and Shane’s done the same. Because they aren’t and they never will be. Well, except for now, where they’re kind of newlyweds and Christ, he’s made up his mind to not tell him this if he can. He’ll let Ryan in on the main facts, but the side bits he’s going to refrain from spilling. After all, once the bond is broken, what’s the point of Ryan knowing?

Because it _will_ be broken. Especially now that he at least knows the truth about Shane’s demonic status and in many, many ways this is something of a relief. It’s been hanging over Shane for years, an axe always waiting to fall and now that it’s been dealt with, Shane can _breathe_. Still, there is the matter of whatever the hell is stalking Ryan.

Shane sensed the other entity the moment he’d driven up to Ryan’s place. The air had had that overly charged, electrical smell to it. And while the bond _is_ partial, he and Ryan are still connected. Bondmates are known to be able to tap into one another’s emotions, no matter the distance, and Shane had, for the first time, felt that. Felt that sharp edge of fear and it was most definitely not his own.

But it _had_ become his own as he’d charged up the stairs, barreled into Ryan’s place and found that… _thing_ …hovering over him. And getting into the apartment…well, that had been interesting to say the least. He’d pretty much passed right through the front door, like it was immaterial. Or he was. A new demonic power he can just chalk up to being a level four. Same for making the bedroom door burst, because while he _is_ stronger than a human, he’s not Superman.

Or, apparently, he’s not Superman unless Ryan’s in danger. But that’s neither here nor there right now, “You ready for more?”

Ryan’s shoulders rise and fall, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay, well-“

“So, why didn’t you tell me?” Ryan interrupts before Shane can even really start and this trips him up, “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me before? Y’know – that you’re a demon? Is it just because there’s some kind of supernatural laws or-?”

“Yes, that,” Shane’s answer is obviously too easy and at Ryan’s piercing look he fidgets, “Okay, yeah, that and – well, I mean, it’s…it’s not like you’re very impartial when it comes to demons.”

Ryan goggles for a moment, “The fuck does that mean?!”

“You’re pretty goddamn prejudice,” Shane deadpans and Ryan looks super offended, but Shane has had this argument in mind for a long time, “C’mon, man, you’ve said it yourself! ‘All demons are evil, that’s a given’. ‘There’s no good demon, there’s just bad.’”

“O-okay, but if you look at the evidence…”

“There _is_ no evidence!” Shane nearly shouts, “At least no _real_ evidence. There’s only the shit humans make up and things that, to be fair, we do pass around as fact.”

“’We’? As in-?”

He nods, “As in the supernatural community, yes.”

“Okay, but if you passed it around, then why are you mad at me!”

“I’m not mad at you,” Shane murmurs, “Just…I don’t know. Disappointed.”

“Disappointed? Dude, you know that’s worse! That’s some parent level shit. ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’.”

“Yeah, but there’s no other way to put it. I asked you if you thought there might be some fun demons and you shot that down without eve-”

“No, no, no!” Ryan cuts in as he often does in their arguments, “You asked in a place and time where I didn’t know that you yourself are a demon – so, no, I’m just going to discount that.”

“Oh yeah, because not knowing excuses your bias.”

Ryan’s face has taken on some color and Shane feels a little bad. A little bit. So he eases up some, “But, besides your thoughts on the matter – yes, I also couldn’t tell you because we’re barred from exposing the truth of our existence. There are consequences for doing that. Ones I don’t even want to talk about because they give me the willies.”

Ryan repeats ‘the willies’ while laughing and Shane will admit he said it just for that reason. Better to lighten the mood than let it continue to sour, “However, after I took care of those guys and healed you it…it bonded us and that, ah, means I can let you in on everything.”

Okay, so, the truth. Kinda. Hey, he’s mentioned the bond, so that’s something.  At least Ryan knows about it now. Even if he doesn’t know _all_ the facts. But it’s not like Shane _has_ to get into its martial implications, right?

Ryan’s eyeballs him, “A bond, huh? Does that mean I’m in your debt or something? Like, you healed me, so now you have dibs on my soul, or-?”

“Ryan, I don’t want your soul,” Shane hopes he’s getting across how silly that idea is, “Despite what your buddy Father Thomas said, not all demons are parasitic creatures who want to feast on souls and drag everybody to Hell.”

Ryan looks like he doesn’t believe this at all and Shane rolls his eyes, risking the rub at his face because this is the main misunderstanding of the human race, “You guys think so much of yourselves. Do demons like souls? Yeah, we do. Do we do some tricky, fucked up shit to get them? Yes. Do we _ALL_ do that? No. It’s like saying all humans go out of their way to, I don’t know, get cocaine or something.”

“You’re comparing souls to cocaine?”

“Yeah, to some demons, souls are straight up nose candy.”

“N-?” Ryan can’t even finish repeating this before giving into wheezing chuckles. Shane laughs too “Actually, ah, pot might be a better comparison, because some demons can handle their high and some can’t. Also, you have to understand that any soul taken is not a _good_ soul.”

Again with the confused face and Shane sits up, “Demons like to try and corrupt good souls. It’s what we do. It’s fun, but at the end of the day – good people _are_ good people. Yeah, you’ll make mistakes and you’ll commit sins, but in the end, you move on to a good place or at least a medium one. You have to be a really, _really_ fucked up person to go to the Pit and be tortured and have your soul splintered and devoured and all that crap.”

The thick swallow Ryan takes is audible, “H-How fucked up?”

“Ryan,” his voice is beyond gentle, “You’re not there. Not even close.”

His friend nearly melts, obviously comforted. Shane will never understand why Ryan’s so worried about this. On every ghost hunt they’ve done, every demon ‘spot’ they’ve visited, Ryan’s been so wound up. As if at any moment he’ll be judged and found wanting. And that’s just not the case. Ryan would never be found lacking. Ryan is…

…and that’s a road Shane doesn’t want to go down. Nope. Not at all. It’s too…touchy feely. Too not-normal-platonic-friendship territory. Thinking about how Shane finds Ryan, the way he truly sees him. It’s like a raw, exposed nerve. He can’t focus on it. He can’t zero in on how Ryan’s smile makes his insides flutter and how Ryan’s laugh brightens his whole day and how…okay, he said he _wasn’t_ going to go down this road. Thankfully Ryan steers him away from it, “But wait, you said the demons you offed were trying to eat my soul.”

“Yes and I also said they were feral. Feral demons aren’t supposed to be able to leave the Pit and from what I understand, those two were going to be caged up sooner rather than later. Humans aren’t the only ones who have to deal with bureaucratic bullshit. Some asshole didn’t tie up some red tape fast enough, so those two dip shits were out and about and hungry. It’s like when a suspected murderer is on the loose and the cops haven’t caught them yet. There can be casualties.”

“Glad to know I was a casualty,” Ryan grouses and Shane reaches out as if to pat him, the motion similar to the one he made in Sallie house to offer solace, “You weren’t. I told you. You didn’t _die_. You were just…,” he flounders here before finishing lamely with, “ _dying_.”

“Yes, Shane. Thanks for the distinction. That makes it so much better.”

He just shrugs again; sort of helpless, because it’s the truth and he can’t argue it. He can, however, start asking his own questions, “You said earlier you’d been seeing things.”

“Yeah, things I thought you caused with special effects or whatever but now, come to find out, you _have_ been causing them, but through your weird, super-secret double life! Guess you really are Banjo McFuckface or whatever stupid spy name you came up with.”

Now it’s Shane’s turn to be offended, “It was Banjo-! Arg! That doesn’t matter right now. Tell me what you’ve been seeing.”

“What? It’s come to my part in this horrible show and tell? Alright then, strap in, ‘cause I’m going to blow your mind!”

“Mind is ready to be blown.”

“Shut up, just,” Ryan is trying not to smile again and Shane’s happy to see it. To see he can still crack Ryan up, that his friend hasn’t become immune to his charms. Especially after Ryan tells him his story, because it is a goddamn doozy. Shane _is_ a little mind blown at the creature that’s been hounding Ryan through mirrors and shadows. Mainly because Ryan faced this thing alone and isn’t a frightened howling mess.

Everything he describes sounds terrifying and for someone who jumps three feet high when _wind_ brushes his skin in an abandoned shithole, Ryan’s fortitude in these recountings is impressive to say the least. But more than that, Shane now finds himself worried. And it’s so bizarre, because Shane can count on one hand the number of times he’s actually felt this emotion.

Funny that almost all the ones in question are centered around Ryan. Just plain crazy. When Ryan finishes the recap with the episode in his bedroom his jaw’s tight, eyes pointing daggers in Shane’s direction, “…and turns out, this is all your doing, you jackass!”

“Not…not _all_ my doing,” Shane attempts to argue, but at Ryan’s clearly rising anger, he hastens to add, “Look, I didn’t sic some shadow monster on you! I truly, honestly have no idea what the fuck that thing is or why it’s hunting you. I-I _did_ sense it when I got here and it felt sort of demonic, but I can’t say for sure what it is.”

“Yes, we can say for fucking sure what it is! It’s a goddamn demon! A _real_ demon!”

“Hey! I’M a demon!”

Ryan side eyes him, “I don’t know, dude. I’m thinking that’s debatable. Because if it _is_ a demon, you weren’t joking earlier about different types. Because this guy, unlike you, isn’t a collection of just,” he waves carelessly at him, “fluffy hair and gangly limbs. It’s a lot more fucking scary and evil! I’ve had about twenty heart attacks since it started stalking me.”

Shane runs a hand through his hair self-consciously, “There’s nothing wrong with the way I look.”

“I’m not saying there is! All I’m saying is you’ve got all the accessories somebody can find in a Halloween costume at Party City.”

This earns Ryan a withering look but he doesn’t succumb to it, his argument sound, “Shane, please, you have a tail. A _tail_.”

Shane scratches his chin as he nods, his tail rising and undulating in the air as if to punctuate that point. Ryan looks at it with unabashed fascination before letting his gaze roam elsewhere, “And horns.”

“Yes.”

“So it was like I said,” Ryan says and at Shane’s nonplussed air he presses, “Back when we were doing Sallie, I said that demons will present themselves as human. That they won’t immediately come out with the horns, so…”

“Yeah, but you also said demons don’t present themselves as adults and,” Shane gestures to his whole body, “as you can see.”

Ryan’s ready for this one, “You’re not much of an adult.”

Shane flips him off and Ryan laughs. The moment is beautiful in its normalness. This is what Shane’s fighting to protect and looking at his friend right now, he knows he’ll fight for it tooth and nail. Hell, he’s already done as much and he grows rueful as he holds up a hand, “Trust me, I’m an adult demon and I have adult demon parts.”

“Shane, you’re not, like, talking about your dick, are you?”

“What?”

“Because I, um, I don’t…”

“No, you dingus! I was talking about…” Shane’s hand changes, growing crimson as his fingers elongate, turning into sharp razors. Ryan’s whole demeanor collapses for a second, and despite his earlier talk, Shane sees a glimmer of fear. But it’s only for a second and he can respect it. It’s only natural for Ryan to have some healthy reservations about something he’s never seen. This isn’t the kind of fear he takes personally.

Moreover, it’s short lived, giving way to the kind of childlike wonder, “Whoa! That’s-! That’s awesome!”

Shane turns his clawed hand this way and that, “You think?”

Ryan just nods and reaches out as if to touch, but Shane draws back, “Careful. Sharp.”

He looks properly chastised and as Shane returns his hand to normal, he makes the much needed joke, “I was talking about my dick too.”

This gets him a groan and his smile grows so big it hurts, “Yeah, like I said, adult demon – adult demon parts. I mean; not to brag but-!”

“Then don’t. Please, fuckin’ begging you,” Ryan’s tone is so desperate that Shane just laughs.

Ryan’s eyes shift to Shane’s horns, “Oh god, I-I can’t believe I touched those.”

“Eh,” Shane just rolls one shoulder like its normal and rubs at the same horn Ryan fingered earlier and fuck, he should not think of it that way. Ever.

Because, again, very much not regular friendship territory and maybe Ryan picks up on that, because he asks as lightly as possible, “I, ah, when I touched those I, um, didn’t realize they’re real. They’re…they’re not like…?”

Ryan is wriggling like a worm on a hook and Shane can tell he’s struggling with the right thing to ask. Lucky for Ryan, Shane has an idea of what he’s asking and oh boy, is this gonna be fun, “Are you asking if you touched a no-no spot?”

“Stop it,” Ryan immediately grumps but Shane’s just tickled pink, “Want to know if these pointy bits are an _erogenous zone_?”

He fake purrs the last part and there it is – the blush he’s always waiting for. Ryan is still avoiding looking at him as he mumbles, “Well? A-are they?”

Shane should answer properly. He should answer the way a true friend would. A true friend who, in no way has ever thought about Ryan in any sort of sexual manner. That’s how he should answer.

Instead he comes out with a saucy, “And if they are?”

Those earlier moments? The nice friendly ones? They’re swallowed by this. This…tenseness. And the temperature in the room seems to have risen and just what the fuck is Shane doing? He’s trying to preserve a friendship and here he is openly flirting. And, okay, yes – sometimes he _does_ flirt with Ryan, but not like this. This is too…blatant.

And he’s been the one swearing up and down that he doesn’t want change and he just wants everything to go back to the way it was, so what the fuck is he doing? It’s the bond. That has to be the reason. Of course it is. Partial or not, it’s there and he had a quickening and that’s the only explanation. Especially when he sees Ryan’s pupils dilate just a fraction, his throat working silently before he manages a throaty, “What?”

Shane’s on a knife’s edge, perspiration forming because he could so easily push this in a certain direction…

No. He’s not going to do that. He can’t afford to do that, so he lets out a twisty sort of laugh, “Don’t work yourself up into knots, little guy. They’re not.”

Ryan pretty much melts again and Shane adjusts himself on the armchair because he did not – _did not_ – grow something of a chub from the intensity of that interaction. He coughs and keeps shifting around, “Yeah, I have horns. Some demons don’t. The thing after you – demon or no – definitely doesn’t. But now that you and I are on the same page, we can handle it.”

“ _Psh_ , speak for yourself! I’m this close to losing my mind entirely. Not to mention I’m not…I mean; we’ve got an uphill climb as far as trust issues go. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that,” Shane’s guessing his expression matches how bummed he feels, because Ryan sighs, “Look, I thought I knew you, but obviously you’ve been holding out on me. God only knows what else you’re keeping under wraps.”

There’s a distinct flush Shane feels at that, but he plays it cool, “Not much. I mean, we all have our secrets.”

Ryan glares at him, “Okay, but my secrets aren’t potentially going to kill you. _Again_ apparently, and oh god, I can’t believe I sorta died and I don’t even fucking remember it.”

“Would you want to?”

“Fuck no, but it’s still fucked up!” he’s jerking about in his seat as he says this, much like he does when they debate in interviews, “Not to mention I’ve confided in you about some like, pretty deep stuff and now I’m going to question all of it.”

This earns him a frown, “What do you mean?”

“I,” Ryan rubs at the back of his neck and it’s clear his anxiety is reaching an all-time high, “I’m talking about the last time I saw you. When I…I mean, I didn’t _say_ it, but I sort of implied…”

He trails off and it’s clear he’s struggling, so Shane gives him what he needs. Time. He’s patient and quiet and finally Ryan speaks, “I’m bi.”

“Yeah?” Shane draws the question out, because he doesn’t quite get what’s up, until Ryan reaches out and swats at his arm, “Shane, I haven’t told many people about it. I mean, I’m not ashamed or anything, but I’m not at that ‘shouting it from the rooftops’ stage and you seemed fine with it, but now that I know you’re all-all espionage savvy…”

“Whoa, Ryan,” Shane sits up and reaches out to gently pat at his shoulder, “I might have kept my demon-ness on the down low, but I’ve never kept my opinions a secret from you. It’s totally cool that you’re bi. Swear. And I’m honored you felt comfortable enough with me to tell me.”

Ryan brushes off his hand, “Okay, okay. No…no need to go all ‘After School’ special on me.”

“Hey, you mentioned it, so you were obviously worried about it.”

“Yeah, I…I guess,” he exhales and it’s clear that, yes, he was worried about it and some of the anxiousness drops away, “But when I told you, you sort of…I mean, you made it sound like…?”

“You’re wondering if I’m bi?” Shane finishes up and then looks thoughtful as he leans back in his seat, “I don’t know, I mean – do you even _have_ an identifiable sexuality when you’ve made it with a chupacabra?”

This is met with a crazed amount of giggles. Until it becomes clear Shane isn’t laughing. Ryan’s eyes go back to big saucer status, “You’re serious?”

Shane just grins and shrugs. It’s clear Ryan can’t help it as he explodes with giggles again, “Oh shit! You dirty monster fucker!”

“Heh, guess I was keeping that from you too.”

“Probably for the best.”

“Not really. That was a good night.”

“I…I want to know and don’t at the same time,” Ryan catches his breath on that and Shane pushes forward, “So, you know besides that and keeping the fact that I’m an unholy preternatural being from you, there’s really no other big revelations waiting in the wings.”

 _Liar_ , his thoughts hiss but he brushes it away because, again, mentioning the specifics of the bond isn’t really necessary. He does, however, feel he should admit one more thing, “Though, I guess I _should_ also cop to the fact that I, ah, took the job at Buzzfeed because of you.”

“Because of me?”

“Yeah, ah, you…you’re actually kind of my _real_ job.”

“Your job?!” Ryan pulls that scandalized higher pitched voice again and Shane can’t help but laugh. His laughter is clearly not welcome as Ryan smacks at him again, this time with a nearby couch cushion, “Stop that! This isn’t funny! I don’t want to be your job! How am I your job? What – are you assigned to be the devil on my shoulder? Are you here to corrupt me or something?”

“No, my assignment is to keep you from exposing anything real.”

Ryan is immediately livid, “Son of a bitch! You’re such a goddamn traitor! Have you been sabotaging my finds! Have we gone on shoots and found legit proof and you’ve-!”

He’s getting so worked up that Shane has to start waving his hands like mad to get him to shut up, “No, no. Nothing like that! Honest, Ryan, the things you’ve seen and heard are like, tip of the iceberg. It keeps humans amused and satisfied and they poke at us, but they never find anything concrete. Anything dangerous. Come on, you saw that thing earlier – do you _really_ want to be responsible for releasing something like that on the world?”

“How on earth would _I_ be responsible?”

“Because monkey see, monkey do, man! If you found something legit, some other human would go for it and then another and another and the next thing you know it’s all over the place. It doesn’t matter if it’s some little video on YouTube, once we’re out, we’ve got to defend ourselves and trust me; it won’t be pretty.”

“Okay, but, let’s back track to where I’m your job,” Ryan mutters, arms crossing again, “Because that’s just – that’s fucked up. And it’s so not helping the earning back trust thing, because I thought we were friends…”

“We _are_ friends, Ryan.”

“Uh, no, I think I have to call bullshit on that, because friends don’t lie to one another and covertly keep tabs on them! I mean, do you get paid to keep an eye on me? Am I just a task for you to check off on a checklist or you’re like, my babysitter, or-?”

“I’ve called you baby, but not because I’m sitting you,” Shane says this nearly right on top of Ryan’s last question and the remark is so odd they both just sit there in silence for a moment. Eventually Shane clears his throat, “That-that came out wrong.”

“Yeeeeeah, it did,” Ryan’s eyes dart around and Shane tugs at his shirt collar, “What I _meant_ to say is, no. I’m not your babysitter and you are much more than a job to me, you’re, ah…” he trails off and here they are again, in that troubled spot where things feel a little too personal.

But Shane pushes past it because his relationship with Ryan is too important to squander on some stupid male convention, “You’re my friend. You’re important to me. I…I care about you.”

They both can’t look at one another and they’re both blushing. Ryan does the only thing a guy can do in this sort of situation. Deflect with humor, “That’s so sweet.”

“Shut up.”

“Next you’re gonna ask me to prom.”

“Fuckin’ _Christ_ ,” Shane closes his eyes and tips his head back, eyes on the ceiling.

“Can-can-? Are you even aloud to _say_ that or-?”

“What? ‘Christ’?”

“Ye-yeah. Won’t you, like, burst into flames or-?”

“Ryan, you’ve heard me say it a hundred times!”

“I know, but that was before I found out…”

“I can say it, Ryan!” Shane groans, “I told you, I’m not that kind of demon.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that. You’re just the kind of demon who’s a prick. Y’know, lying to your best friend and all,” Ryan’s words are harsh, but his tone mellow and frankly, Shane can’t help but be pleased. This could have gone much, much worse. But Ryan’s capacity for forgiveness and understanding is surprisingly vast. Honestly, he kind of _does_ want to ask him to prom. The last thought makes Shane smirk at his own stupidity, “What can I say? I’m a little devil.”

“But not _the_ devil.”

“No, not him. I’m my own demon, baby.”

Ryan tosses his whole head back against the couch, “Man, I  _hate_  demons.”

Shane’s heard Ryan say this many times before, but never like this. Never with begrudging affection, “Ryan, I don’t think I’ve said it yet, but – I’m sorry.”

His friend just looks at him, expressionless, and Shane runs a hand through his hair again, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was a demon. I’m sorry I never told you I was assigned to you and I’m sorry for what happened. The bond and the botched birthday gift and just…just all of it, I guess.”

He risks a look at Ryan’s face and when he sees it’s still blank, his voice grows soft and remorseful, “I know I fucked up. A lot. I hurt you and lost your trust and-and maybe even your friendship and I just…I hope I can earn it back. That’s all.”

The silence between them is deafening.

Finally Ryan speaks, “Yeah. Maybe next year you should just – I don’t know, just take me out to lunch or something.”

A notch of confusion forms between Shane’s eyebrows and Ryan rolls his eyes, “For my birthday, dummy.”

“D-do you even want me around for your next birthday?”

Ryan chews on his bottom lip for a moment, then reaches out and smacks at one of Shane’s knees, “Tell you what – you help me with this monster and you stay honest with me from here on out and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you have visitation rights.”

“Visit-?”

“Well, you’re a demon. So I’m thinking I should get sole custody of Ryan Shane Junior,” the joke is simple and stupid and it makes Shane’s heart feel like its bursting with fireworks, “Deal.”


	7. Chapter 7

The cashier at the Chipotle tells Ryan the price and he just grins, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, “He’s paying.”

Shane makes a sound, one Ryan is sure is of annoyance, but he really doesn’t give a shit. He just smiles, practically whistling as he waltzes away to find a seat. Once in a booth, he begins to eat his burrito with relish. Shane follows behind with his own food and a frown, “I wasn’t aware I was paying.”

“Oh, yeah and you’ll be paying for a while, big guy," Ryan takes a nice, big healthy bite before continuing, words muffled by the deliciousness of his food, “As a matter of fact, you’ll be getting the bill for my Chipotle needs for the foreseeable future. So,” he swallows his mouthful and holds the burrito aloft, tipping it the way one tips a champagne flute, “Cheers.”

“Okay, but why? I’m not made of money.”

“Bullshit,” this curse is half buried within Ryan’s hungry scarfing, “You’ve got two jobs, one of which is centered around me, so if you’re making money off me, I deserve to reap the benefits of that. Hence burritos.”

“You’re trying to make me into your sugar daddy?”

“Thanks, Papi,” Ryan nearly purrs, but the tips of his ears heat a little. And, okay, whatever. Shane flirts with him on a regular basis. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t do it back. Except flirting with your friend isn’t normal, is it? You’re supposed to flirt with people you’re romantically interested in. But it’s not like Shane is interested in him, so, when he flirts with Ryan, it’s clearly a joke. And Ryan can take a joke. He can return it even. Yeah. It’s hilarious.

He scowls a little on his next bite and Shane is barely picking at his own food, lanky form slouched back in the booth, “Alright, but my second ‘job’ doesn’t pay me money.”

Ryan slows in his voracious eating, “No?”

“No, not in the traditional sense,” Shane looks around as if someone might overhear them, then leans forward, voice low, “I took the job for entertainment, alright? I was bored. I’d been bored for a long, long time. I asked for an assignment. They gave me you. And yeah, I’m supposed to file a report now and then, but I hardly ever do, because working with you at my _real_ job, it…”

He looks chagrined to be so openly forthright, but he presses on, “It’s better than anything that’s come before. I’m not bored. I’m…happy. Content.”

Ryan licks his lips and eyes Shane’s food, “You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Shane pouts. He pouts. He’s _pouting_. It’s ridiculous and Ryan puts his burrito down to nudge Shane’s closer to him, “Yeah, you are. Unless it turns out you don’t actually eat human food.”

“Ryan, you’ve seen me-!”

“I don’t know – maybe when I’m not looking you’re chowing down on babies. Nubile virgins?” His tone is light and teasing and he sees some of the tension leave Shane’s shoulders, “Was the chupacabra a virgin?”

“Not when we were done,” Shane chuckles and finally unwraps his burrito, taking a healthy bite. Ryan watches him with a secret awe he hopes his friend doesn’t pick up on. But…Shane is a _demon_. He’s a supernatural creature. He’s not _human_. It’s… _amazing_.

To be honest, Ryan still can’t wrap his head around it. Shane looks so…normal. Yeah, way too tall and too slender, but normal. From the outside, no one would ever guess he’s something other than what he appears to be. And knowing the truth now, Ryan is still a little hurt and angry but mostly he’s…excited? He knows that’s probably wildly inappropriate, but there’s something about someone so familiar suddenly being so new that’s just…thrilling.

And it’s not like Shane is a scary demon. Ryan’s _seen_ a scary demon and Shane is totally different from the thing that’s haunting him. Shane is just…Shane. But now he’s a Shane that happens to have a trio of neat features. Wings, horns, tail. It sounds like the name of a cool band. Although he _did_ turn Ryan’s bedroom door to splinters. Ryan can barely recall it. To be honest, he’d been far too focused on his crippling fear to think about it, but now, to know how strong Shane is…

It’s not frightening. It’s...it’s kind of-?  Ryan tries to focus on the taste of his guacamole, because it’s better, _safer_ , to think about that then to think about how he apparently is turned on by strength. _Shane crushing the water gun one handed_. Mmm, the beans are so good in this.

“Are they?” Shane asks and Ryan realizes he said the stupid bean thing aloud. Goddamn it.

“Yeah,” Ryan returns stupidly and he wants to roll his eyes at himself. So Shane is stronger than he looks, so what? That’s not a kink and hey, kink is a very strong word. And strength probably _is_ a kink and fuck, Ryan does _not_ want to think about this. He and Shane are just friends. Period, underline, underline. Just because Shane’s revealed this new aspect of himself doesn’t mean Ryan’s now free to reinterpret their relationship.

It’s not like Shane’s doing that now that he knows Ryan’s bisexual and oh god, what if he _is_ doing that? Ryan feels the recognizable pulse of his anxiety shoot through him and finds his mouth moving faster than his mind, “Nothing’s changed, right?”

Shane blinks; burrito halfway to his mouth and Ryan feels dumber by the minute as he continues, “I mean, now that you know I’m Bi.”

“Ryan, why would it change?” Shane’s voice is gentle, but he sets his burrito down and rubs his fingers together as if to wipe them off, “Unless this is just an allegory for my own revelation.”

“N-no. it’s not,” Ryan knows how weak that sounded, so he clears his throat and tries again, “It’s not, Shane. I don’t look at you any differently now that you’ve told me you’re a, ah…”

“You can say it, Ryan. I doubt anyone in this Chipotle is going to overhear you and come running at me with a cross or something.”

“You said that won’t work on you.”

“It won’t, but you get the idea. No one would believe it. You certainly didn’t, so you can say the ‘d’ word.”

“Dick?”

Shane just chuckles and Ryan relaxes like he always does when he banters with Shane, some of the anxiety spooling out of him, “Okay, demon.”

“See? Was that so hard?”

“Still so weird,” Ryan admits, “But yeah, back to the point, I don’t think of you differently. I mean, it _is_ like discovering you’re a new person, but not in a bad way. It’s in a fun way and no, that sounds stupid, it’s like…”

“You’re really struggling here, aren’t you?” Shane teases and Ryan hopes his expression is sufficiently bitchy enough to show how much he _doesn’t_ appreciate Shane’s pointing out his inability to string his words together, “What I’m trying to say is; nothing’s different, it’s just…updated.”

“Well then, same here, partner,” Shane is so annoyingly easy going. Ryan wishes he could be so sanguine in these situations, but now he does have something to appreciate, as Shane murmurs, “You’re still the same to me too, Ryan. But new in the sense that now we can go about picking you out a boyfriend just as much as a girlfriend.”

“Why are ‘we’ doing it?”

“Come on, I can’t let you tangle with just anybody, can I? Daddy has to approve.”

Ryan snorts and ignores his ears warming again, “Alright, we can just drop the daddy thing.”

“Too many ‘d’ words?”

“Yeah, time to start in on ‘a’ words, like, asshole,” Ryan grins, delighted to have the easy communication back, “As in, are you done, asshole?”

Shane finishes off the last bite of his food and nods as they get to their feet and leave the restaurant. They climb into Shane’s car and he starts driving them to god knows where. Or, maybe better to say, the devil knows where. Ryan tries not to sweat as his breath leaves him audibly, “Couldn’t go into the belly of the beast without full bellies ourselves, huh?”

“Hey, food was your idea. Frankly, I don’t think it’s a good one. We’ll get there and you’ll probably get all worked up and spew chunks everywhere.”

Ryan laughs, but it’s jittery because Shane is probably not wrong. This earns him a deep sigh, “Ryan, relax. I can literally _hear_ your body tensing. Do you get this bent out of shape when you’re going to your regular doctor?”

“Honestly? Yes. I don’t like the doctor. No one does. I especially don’t like a doctor that works out of a demon hole.”

The next sigh is even deeper than the last, “It’s not a demon hole. Not everything is ghouls, ghosts, and demons. It’s a wild, wild world of weird.”

Ryan realizes this must be true, because Shane did mention a vampire and a chupacabra. Some of his nerves give way to curiosity, “What else is there?”

“How much time you got?”

This is honestly the most exciting this Shane has ever said, “Bigfoot?”

“Never met one, but from what I’ve heard, yeah, real.”

“Mermaids?”

“Snobby chicks with fish tails? Check.”

“Zombies?”

“Dead people with skin conditions and fucked up appetites? Not many, but some.”

“Werewolves?”

“Ugh, you don’t want to know how real they are.”

Ryan’s grin is wide, “Furries?”

Shane just hums and Ryan laughs through the next one, “Leprechauns?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Wh-? You said there’s a lot in the world of weird!”

“Yeah, but not awful stereotypes. That’s a human convention. Or maybe just a gnome being a jerk. Wouldn’t surprise me – ninety nine percent of gnomes are jerks.”

“What, you’re saying a gnome dressed all in green and passed that one around?”

“Again, wouldn’t surprise me,” Shane murmurs and Ryan just shakes his head. To think so many things exist. A variety of supposedly imaginary creatures run through his mind and then one grips him with feverish anticipation, “Angels?”

As a demon, Ryan fully expects Shane to scoff and decree that all angels as douchebags. Instead he gets really quiet. Ryan’s smile slips away as he waits. Was this the wrong thing to ask? Do angels not exist? But they have to, don’t they? Angels are demons fantastic polar opposites. If one exists, the other must follow.

Ryan knows he would never be scared of an angel. In fact, meeting an angel would probably be the highlight of his life. The light and the beauty, the feeling of tranquility. That’s what an angel would offer. Or at least what he imagines an angel would offer.

But maybe that’s why Shane’s so quiet. Does he think Ryan would prefer an angel to a demon? Technically he would, but he didn’t mean to ask in a way that would hurt Shane’s feelings. In a way that would imply he’d prefer an angel to his demon friend. Shit! That’s probably how it _did_ come across! He’s such a dickhead!

Ryan tries to think of how to take it back or change the subject when Shane says dully, “Yeah, they’re real.”

“I’m-I’m sorry, dude. I shouldn’t have asked. They’re like, your mortal enemy, right?” Ryan cringes at this because what the fuck? Why is he still talking and asking really fucking rude questions? Has he lost his ability to show tact? He should just let it drop!

“I suppose. They certainly can be dipshits.”

“Probably pretty judgy,” Ryan offers because he’s really at the end of his rope. He should ask something else, mention something else, he needs to get off of this topic. Especially when Shane speaks again, voice still stiff, “They are. But the one who made ‘em takes the cake.”

This sets Ryan to rapidly blinking because, oh yeah, God exists. He didn’t ask, but in reflection it makes perfect sense. Shane confirmed the devil, so why not God? Despite the earlier set back, Ryan is a believer in all sense of the word. Still, to hear it confirmed is…something. He’s not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. The ambiguity of life holds a certain charm. Ignorance is bliss or whatever. But now he knows for certain that there is a heaven, a hell, angels, demons and-

“Ghosts!” Ryan tosses out brightly, “They’re real, right?”

“Ryan, you know this one.”

“No, I don’t and you still haven’t said it and you _need_ to say it!”

“Why do I _need_ to say it?” the question is asked with a degree of irritation and frankly Ryan grips to that, because irritation is so much better to deal with than that dead tone Shane had earlier, “Because, dude, it’s one of the core foundations of our relationship! I believe in ghosts, you don’t. I search for them, get a little freaked out and you deny their existence and poke fun at me – but now with all this out in the open, you have to admit I was right and you have to say the words. So, go on! I’m waiting.”

The car they’ve been riding in suddenly pulls into a very small shopping center that is mostly abandoned. There’s one lone cell phone store, a Gamestop, and some carpet and rug place. Shane pulls the vehicle smoothly into a space and parks, shutting off the engine before he turns to Ryan with a smirk, “Well then, keep on waiting, buddy. ‘Cause I’m never gonna say it.”

“What? No! You have to!”

“I don’t, actually. Matter of fact, the only way I’ll _ever_ breathe those words to you is if I’m on my death bed.”

“You cruel, withholding son of a-!” Ryan cuts himself off as he looks around, “Why did we stop?”

“Because we’re here,” Shane says as he unclicks his seat belt and climbs out. Ryan follows suit but he’s frowning the whole time, “This can’t be right.”

“Why? What did you expect?”

Ryan looks at the three open stores and the five other empty ones, “I don’t know. A cave? A hole in the ground? Not this. This is…so pedestrian.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a new era, Ryan. We left the dark shitholes to weirdos who want to look for ghosts. You ready?”

Ryan glares at him and offers his middle finger by way of an answer. Shane just laughs and starts toward the carpet and rug store. Ryan follows behind, nerves returning, palms sweating so much he has to rub them down the sides of his pants, “This place, huh? Not the Gamestop or the Verizon?”

“Nah, those places are too creepy,” Shane says over one shoulder as he opens the door, waving Ryan in. A tiny bell jingles out and a very average, very not-supernatural looking man appears, “Ah, Mr. Madej! Pleasure to see you again!”

Much to Ryan’s surprise, Shane’s shoulders droop, “Not you too. I don’t even know your name, guy!”

The man offers a bow, “It’s Amar, your grace.”

“Okay, let’s just not-!” Shane starts but Ryan’s immediately bug eyed and laughing, “Holy sh-! He just called you ‘your grace’!”

Amar regards Ryan with some confusion, “But of course! It was my error not to address him so on his last visit. Those recently risen do not often give off the sense of their newly achieved level. I’m still most aggrieved that I asked him for _codes_. As if he were some lowly one!”

“I used to _be_ a lowly one,” Shane grumbles under his breath, like being a one is far better to…whatever the fuck he is now and honestly, Shane wasn’t kidding. There’s so much more to this than Ryan thought. His head is spinning. This whole situation so alien to him and it feels even more so when Amar suddenly turns and bows to him, “I also welcome you, bondmate of Madej.”

“Bond-?”

“I told you about that,” Shane cuts in quickly looking squirrelier than Ryan would like, “The whole healing thing bonding us, just – ignore the title. Amar! Could you, y’know, take us down already?”

“Yes, yes,” Amar motions for them to follow him and Ryan goes with an open mind. After all, where could they be going? It can’t be far. Turns out it _is_ far. Flight of stairs after flight of stairs. Unique doors with fancy spy codes and Ryan wishes he could tape even one second of this on his phone. But Shane had been firm. No phones, no cameras, nothing but the two of them.

They keep going down and Jesus, how far down are they going to go? From the outset, the store had looked like a one story, but Ryan feels like they’ve gone down several floors. Finally they emerge in front of an elevator and as quickly as Amar came, he’s gone. Shane pushes a button and rocks back and forth on his heels, “I think you’ll like this.”

“L-like what?” Ryan asks and his nerves are coming back because there’s no way that elevator can go anywhere but down and if they are going into Hell itself he doesn’t think he’ll make it.

And then he knows for certain he won’t make it, because when the elevator door dings open the inside is…ominous. The overhead light is flickering and it suddenly feels like the temperature around them has dropped several degrees. Shane looks confused for about a millisecond before he suddenly chortles. There’s no other description for the sound he makes.

His hands are in his pockets and he’s cool as a cucumber as he walks into the scary ass (no doubt express) elevator to Hell, “Come on, Ryan. Time’s a’wastin’.”

Ryan swallows thickly and his legs feel like lead as he forces himself forward. He gets on the elevator and when the door shuts he feels faint. A wave of dizziness passes over him and he’s not even sure if they’re moving. What the hell kind of elevator is this? This is awful. He hates this! Why oh, why did he agree to this again?

Oh yeah, because Shane said it was important Ryan see the same doctor as him. Something to do with the bond and his kinda-death and oh, no, no, no. This is just – this is too much. He taps one foot and shifts about restlessly and Shane is all smiles, “You okay, little guy?”

“I’m f-fine. I’m fine,” Ryan insists because he _is_ fine. So this elevator has a strobing light and it’s cold and it’s going god knows where. He’s fine. It’s all fine. He’s faced worse. So much worse. He’s been in scary places. Of course he has. This is nothing and it’s not like he’s alone.

Shane is here. Shane will protect him. Shane’s a demon and that has to be scarier than anything else. Even if Shane seems like the kind of demon that’s like, house trained or something, and fuck, fuck – where is this elevator going and is it ever going to stop and when will the door open he wants off!

That’s when he feels it. A light brush along the back of his neck. Like cool fingertips. He leaps several feet in the air and Shane just gives him his normal ‘you’re-an-idiot’ look, “What?”

“Something touched me!”

“Did it?”

“I’m not fucking around with you, Shane! Are we alone in this elevator?”

Shane turns his head to his left and then his right, “Don’t see anybody else.”

“Don’t give me that shit! Is this how it normally is?”

“Sure.”

“Shane…”

“Ryan,” Shane chides, “Would I lie?”

“YES!” Ryan snaps and honestly. Shane would have lied even before revealing his whole demon thing and Shane just laughs and Ryan wants to punch him again. Then he hears it in his ear, a softly crooned, “ _Blue mooooon_ …”

He lets out a shriek and nearly jumps into Shane’s arms. Shane is laughing hard and Ryan is looking at him as if he’s insane when suddenly the light above clicks on and a _woman_ is there. She’s standing to one side of the elevator buttons and she’s… _see through_. Ryan can _see_ through her!

She continues to sing, albeit with a bit of laughter peppered in between the lyrics, “ _You saw me standin' alone_ …”

“First thing he hears from a ghost and that’s what you go with?” Shane asks with a smile, “There’s about a thousand different things you could've gone with. Wish I’d thought of this in advance, I'd've given you a list. The scary bits I could’ve had you say while you were invisible probably would've led him to wetting himself.”

She just hums and chews her gum (how the hell is she chewing gum?), “Hey, that’s plenty scary to me, legs. That song was playing when I-!” she makes a choking sound and tugs her hands to either side of her neck and that’s when Ryan sees the marks there.

Shane winces, “Ah. Sorry.”

“No big. Been a coupla decades, I’m over it. Still, looks like I broke your buddy,” she snaps her fingers in front of his face, “You still with us, cutie?”

Ryan just blinks and looks at her, then Shane, then her again. Shane waves a hand towards her, “This is Gladys.”

“Pleasure,” she offers a hand and without thinking Ryan reaches for it only for his hand to pass right through hers and oh fuck, oh fuck…

“Y-you’re-you’re-?”

Gladys returns her eyes to Shane’s, “I really his first ghost?”

“You bet.”

“Ha! Ain’t been anybody’s first in a long time. What’s your name, cutie?”

“R-r-r-,” he can’t manage words right now.

“Ryan,” Shane offers and Gladys snaps her gum, “Ryan, huh? Cute name for a cute kid. Shame you’re taken or I’d see if I couldn’t try you on for size.”

“I’m…not taken,” Ryan finally manages to speak. And without stuttering this time. Gladys’s eyes widen and Ryan is surprised he can catch that facial nuance when she’s practically transparent, “Oh? But I thought-? Mean, I sensed-?”

She’s looking at Shane inquisitively and Ryan’s still a little too befuddled by the live (or better to say, dead) ghost in front of him to understand much of anything. Something must pass unspoken between the ghost and the demon because she eventually recaptures her smile, “I see. Interesting. VERY interesting. Gotta say, you boys are some of the best entertainment I’ve had in this ol’ tin box in a long time. Nice of you to bring a little life ta this party.”

“We aim to please,” Shane demurs and she laughs and Ryan’s mind is not only starting to return, but to run a mile a minute as he starts just blurting, “Hooo my god, oh my god! You’re a ghost! A real ghost! An actual ghost! You can talk to me! You’re a spirit and I’ve talked to spirits before, but they’ve never answered and they’ve never said my name, at least not clearly, and I usually give them a minute or more and ask them to explain themselves or tell me what happened to them, but I never thought I’d actually, well no, I thought maybe someday I’d actually-”

His words end when she reaches out as if to press her fingers to his lips. She just smiles and shakes her head, “Take it easy. Breathe.”

Ryan draws in one shaky breath, then another. Shane chuckles, “I ask him to do that all the time.”

“He listen to you?”

“Never.”

“And here he is, sayin’ he ain’t taken. Boys,” she sighs and shakes her head again, “So stupid.”

Ryan feels like he’s caught his breath and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “How?”

“Well, that’s a broad one. Where you want me to start?” Gladys crosses her arms and leans back against a wall, amazingly not sinking through it, “How I died? That’s obvious. How am I a ghost? That’s one I can’t answer for you. Some say it’s the whole unfinished business shtick, but I don’t know about that. I did haunt my murderer for a bit. Sonuvabitch deserved it. But once he was gone, I stuck around, so it couldn’t have just been that.”

“D-did you die here?”

“Here? Ha! No, cutie. I died back in Jersey. I’m not tethered, so I can roam where I please.”

“Tethered?”

She gets this pitying look, “You really  _are_ new to all of this, huh?”

Ryan can make out Shane’s nod from the corner of his eyes, “Just got inducted the other night.”

“Ouch,” her nose scrunches up, “You got a big learning curve ahead of you.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees on a loud exhale, “Yeah, I do.”

Gladys continues in an easy, tour guide-kind of tone, “Tethered ghosts can’t leave the spot they’re most connected to. Most of the time it’s the spot where they died. Other times it’s a place that meant a lot to them in life. Good or bad. Untethered spooks, like yours truly, can roam the whole wide world if we want. Might be limbo for all I know. Never did see a light or feel heat when I passed. Just woke up in my kitchen to find I wasn’t alive no more. Real upsetting at the time, but, like I said – it’s been decades. Now I work here, run the elevator, talk to folks – not a bad gig for a dead girl.”

Ryan just nods along to her words like it all makes sense, when really nothing makes sense. This is a ghost in front of him. His holy grail. And he can’t seem to wrap his head around it. He always thought when he found definitive proof he’d know exactly what to do, to say, but he’s lost. He’s speechless. He feels as dumb as a stump and then the elevator dings and the door opens and it just…

It _explodes_.

There in a hospital. Or what looks like a hospital. But what’s _inside_. Some swamp creature sloshes by, followed by a collection of young girls with gossamer wings, more ghosts, more people with all black eyes, an unearthly pale older man with fangs and-and-!

“Crap!” Shane’s arms are around him in an instant. Strong and sure, right beneath his armpits, holding him back close to Shane’s super warm front. Ryan frowns, confused, speech slurry, “Shane?”

“He alright?” Gladys asks sharply and Shane rights him carefully, “Yeah. I think he almost passed out.”

“Shut up. Did not,” Ryan replies, but his response is slow, his words slow. He feels heavy and he rubs at his eyes, confused. Shane sounds a little shaky, even as he jokes, “Yeah, he swooned. Major swooning action.”

“I did not _swoon_.”

“Fainting better? Fainting like a damsel in distress?”

“Shut up, Shane.”

“Guess that makes me the big strapping hero!”

“It makes you the big jackass, you jackass.”

He merely hums, “Not your best comeback. Yeah, it’s a good thing we’re here to see the doctor. This is an emergency.”

“An emergency is your face.”

“Better, but still needs work. Let’s get you in to the doc, huh?” Shane offers and he finally lets Ryan go and oh, yeah, Shane had still been holding him up. Like he was a doll. Or a damsel. Dammit. Shane pats his shoulder as if to check that Ryan is still fine and sturdy before he moves towards the check in desk. Ryan watches him go and frowns because his back still feels warm from Shane’s chest being pressed there and he doesn’t know why he’s still so focused on that.

He turns a little to see Gladys standing in the open elevator doorway. She looks at Shane and then at him, “Not taken, right?”

“I’m not,” he confirms, but it feels more like a whine.

“Uh huh,” and as the door closes he hears her repeat, “Boys. So stupid.”


	8. Chapter 8

The doctor’s office looks like pretty much every other doctor’s office. Frankly, Ryan’s a little disappointed. He does see some nifty anatomy drawings on the wall of some unknown creatures, but past that, it’s all rather tame. Especially in comparison to what he saw earlier out in the main hallways. Shane is looking at him warily, as if at any moment Ryan will pass out and he rolls his eyes, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what,” Ryan grumbles, but at Shane’s slim shoulder shrug he explains, “The hovering. I’m fine, Shane.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“I _am_.”

“Well, you did almost black out.”

“I didn’t,” Ryan returns but at Shane’s pointed look he concedes, “Okay, maybe I almost did. But, to be fair, I just walked smack dab into like, Jim Henson’s creature shop! Honestly, I’m seeing all that and I’m thinking maybe this is all a hoax again. Some super elaborate prank on your part, because all of that shit out there was unbelievable!”

“It’s all real Ryan. Trust me, this is the last thing I’d put any effort towards.”

“I don’t know, maybe you scraped all your pennies together, bought some costumes, some make up, worked some deal with industrial light and magic…”

“Nope,” Shane asserts, “All real. All regular.”

“Regular?” Ryan goggles, “Did you see those girls with the _wings_?”

“Eh, just some sprite hospital volunteers,” his tone is so blasé. Ryan just stares. Shane shifts from foot to foot, “It’s normal for me, Ryan. I get that it’s new to you, but I’ve…had a long time to deal with it. See it. Honestly, it’s been weirder for me. The mortal world is a hot mess and you know it.”

Ryan can’t argue that, “Huh, guess this explains why you’d eat a pickle out of a pond.”

He gets another shrug and Ryan’s thoughts circle back around, “Wait, you said a long time to deal with it. How long?”

“Ryan,” the tone he gets is so annoyingly paternal, “It’s rude to ask someone their age.”

“Not in this case. You’ve said a couple of things that hint you’re way past thirty, so, I mean, I know you’re older than me, but _how_ much older?”

Shane cringes, “Ah…well, um.”

“Shane,” now it’s Ryan’s turn to have the paternal tone, “How old?”

“I…can’t quite remember?” Shane confesses, “I mean, when you sort of started at the beginning of time, how do you-?”

“OH. MY. GOD.” Ryan has to space out and say each word singularly because, what the fuck?

“What the fuck? Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa! I thought, maybe a couple decades, at most a century, but now? Jesus Christ!”

“He wasn’t around yet,” Shane jokes, but it comes out very low and Ryan doesn’t even know where to start so he just, he stops. He presses his face in his hands and closes his eyes and wonders if in all this insanity, time travel is possible. He’d like to go back in time, thanks. Go back to when things made sense.

Shane tries again, “Look, am I chronologically old? Yes. But physically and mentally, I mean, I slept _a lot_ , Ryan. Like, I didn’t spend a lot of time in various time periods. This is the longest I’ve ever been anywhere.”

“I-I don’t know if that makes me feel better or not,” Ryan muses, “I mean, technically you’re ancient. But, I’ll admit, personality wise you’re like – seven years old. Max.”

“Thanks.”

“Not…not sure that’s a compliment.”

“Gonna take it as one. Seven year olds are great,” Shane grins and Ryan can’t help but mimic the action, because that’s just a power Shane has over him. Maybe it’s demonic, but it certainly doesn’t feel that way and he feels his smile grow and dammit, his life is so fucked up right now. What else can he do? 

The door opens and an absolute knockout of a woman walks in, “Madej, nice to see you again. Mr. Bergara, I’m Doctor Qyrora.”

Ryan’s kind of struck at how gorgeous she is as he offers his hand, “I’m…you can call me Ryan.”

“Alright, Ryan,” she shakes his hand and he can just make out her fangs in her smile, “You’re-?”

“A vampire, yes. Your bonded noticed that the first time he came in as well. I usually draw these things in when I’m out with my wife, Kristina, but at work there’s no point in hiding, is there?”

Ryan jerks a thumb towards the closed office door, “Out there, there was this pale guy-?”

“Oh, yes. Mr. Göraniv. He’s a vampire born. They tend to have blood absorption problems. Hence the coloring and the old Nosferatu legends. Humans have hundreds of different ethnicities and races and what have you. It’s much the same for our world. Lots of different types of vampires, demons-”

“Yeah, Shane mentioned it,” Ryan’s eyes roll in his direction, “Among other things.”

Shane looks appropriately chastised as Qyrora speaks, “Yeah, Kristina also went through an adjustment period. I think they offer classes for you guys. I’ll have to ask her. It’s been a while. Now! How’s about you take a seat, huh?”

She taps a hand on her examination table and Ryan gingerly gets up on it. She draws out a funny looking device and it floats. It _floats_. It hangs in the air near her and Ryan just blinks. Really, he should try to stop reacting to these things, but, “That’s…floating?”

Qyrora nods, “Yes. It’s a memo recorder. It’s enchanted to hover around. It records my medical observations telepathically. Much easier than typing or writing something down.”

“I…see,” he clears his throat, “So. Magic? Harry Potter?”

Ryan envies her wife when he hears her laughs, “Good books but, no, not quite like that. Similar, in that witches, wizards and warlocks are a thing, but they’re not the pointy hat, newt eyeballs, cauldrons and potions types. They’re more like engineers. In fact, a lot of your technology comes from their hard work. They bleed it slowly into your society. Who knows? Maybe in a couple of years the memo recorder will be common place in all doctor’s offices. Lord knows, Kristina would love to have one.”

“She’s a doctor too?”

Qyrora finishes her visual examination and draws out the standard tools Ryan’s used to seeing. She presents him with a thermometer and he lets her pop it into his mouth, “Yes, it’s how we met. Her family has a long history in the medical field, helping us with our supplies. After all, blood _is_ an essential component of my diet. It was nice – she knew me as me right away. Didn’t have to go through the whole song and dance. I got to be Qyrora instead of Cora Fielding.”

When the thermometer beeps she draws it out and checks it even as Ryan asks, “You have _two_ names?”

“Indeed. My real one and the one I pass around in your world.”

He immediately whips his head around to Shane who holds up both hands in surrender, “Hey, that’s one thing I’ve been honest about from the get go.”

“I highly doubt ‘Shane Madej’ is a name that’s existed since god-fucking-knows-when!”

This earns him a glare, “Okay, Madej came first. Shane later. But I’ve stuck with it. Period.”

Now it’s Qyrora turn to look thoughtful, “Really? No add on to the end? Normally there’s some sort of vowel sound. Like an ‘iel’.”

Shane’s expression is legitimately something Ryan’s never seen before. It’s actually a little unnerving. Since revealing he’s a demon, Ryan hasn’t found much of his friend to be scary. This look is scary. Shane’s obviously angry, but Qyrora doesn’t waver, “Careful. Higher level or no, I’m a physician. I’ve been trained to deal with all kinds of wrath. Nothing you can do will impress me much.”

The expression leaves and he’s the Shane Ryan knows. Ryan releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as Qyrora puts away the thermometer and draws out a light to check his eyes, ears and throat, “Although, I will admit I…overstepped. A little bit.”

“A lot a bit.”

“Let’s meet in the middle and say there was oversteppage,” she smiles and Ryan just has to sit there while she checks him over like he’s an animal at the vet’s, “It’s a bad habit of mine. Not very professional. Apologies.”

“Accepted. I’m sorry too.”

Ryan tries to say something, but she’s looking down his throat at the moment, so all they hear is, ‘ow, ‘e ‘aologiz’ and Shane laughs, “You sound like your dumb spirit box!”

When she draws away Ryan repeats himself, “I said, wow, he apologized. You hardly ever apologize.”

“Sure I do. Just not to you. Not if I can help it, anyway.” Shane winks and Ryan’s face flushes as Qyrora just shakes her head to herself, drawing the memo recorder close, “Alright Ryan, I’m going to go off the assumption Shane’s filled you in on the most pertinent facts, so I’ll jump to the important questions. Have you noticed any extreme changes of late? Anything that before you knew about the supernatural would come across as unusual?”

“Ffffffuck, where do you want me to start?”

“Yeah, he’s probably going to take like, forty minutes to recount this, so, I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee,” Shane leaves and Ryan starts at the beginning with the shipyard and by the time Shane’s back and several sips in, he concludes with entering this office. Qyrora listens patiently until he’s done, “I see.”

“It’s okay if you zoned out when he was talking. I do that. Don’t ask him about berries, whatever you do,” Shane sips his coffee again even as Ryan flips him off. Qyrora looks at Shane, then Ryan, her arms folding, “Did Mr. Madej explain the bond?”

“Shane,” Shane says even as Ryan talks, “Yeah, he said he healed me and it bonded us. I asked if it meant he had rights to my soul, but he said no. Hopefully he’s telling the truth on that, because, come to find out, he’s a major fuckin’ shyster. I’ve,” Ryan starts ticking it off on his fingers, “found out he’s a demon. Found out he has a secret job watching me. Found out he’s kept all this cool supernatural stuff to himself. And found out he’s a geriatric. Or something past that, really, they need a new word for how fucking _old_ he is.”

Ryan looks at his fingers, “That’s, what? Just four things? Plus, you just mentioned the name deal, so I’m sure there’s more. It’s reaching a point where I shouldn’t even react with surprise anymore. That emotion’s tapped out.”

Qyrora looks at Shane even as she asks Ryan the question, “Nothing else?”

“ _Fuck_! There _is_ something else, isn’t there?” Ryan gripes, “Guess here comes number five.”

Much like Shane did with Gladys in the elevator, he and the doctor seem to share a silent conversation with just eyes and Ryan starts to wonder if telepathy is more of a thing than he knows when she just exhales, “It’s not my place. But, as your metaphysical physician, I will merely say that your being bonded does have some attributes that he failed to mention. For example, if you feel an emotion very, very strongly, he will pick up on it and vice versa.”

Ryan leans back, “Wait, so? I’m an empath now?”

She laughs her delightful laugh again, “Something like that. But one very Shane-centric.”

“Oh god,” Ryan’s groan is overly dramatic and she laughs again. Even Shane grins. He’s been a bit on edge since Qyrora mentioned the bond, so Ryan makes a mental note to ask him more about it later. It’s clear the big guy is holding out something. But honestly, he can only take so much in one sitting.

Mulling the emotion thing, Ryan frowns, “Hold up, we can’t influence one another, right? Like, I can’t control his emotions and he can’t control mine or-?”

“No, no, no,” she waves his concerns away with hurried motions, as if they’re physically in front of her, “Nothing dubious like that. He has no power over you and you have none over him. You’re still very much your own individual selves.”

The rush of relief at this is potent as she continues, “The bond just means you’re, ah, _closer_ than most.”

“Is that why I keep hearing this whole ‘bonded’ and ‘bondmate’ thing? We’ve run into a couple of people who’ve said stuff like that.”

“Yes, I’ll bet,” she shoots Shane a look again before rolling her eyes heavenwards and shaking her head, “It’s an appropriate title.”

“I don’t know – bondmate has ‘mate’ in it,” Ryan mutters and Shane just huffs out, “People in England call their friends ‘mate’, Ryan. It’s no big deal.”

Qyrora’s eyes return to Shane and they’re narrowed, judging, “Isn’t it?”

“Whaaaaat’s going on?” Ryan asks, looking between the two of them, very lost and very worried and she turns back to him, “It’s nothing to worry over. Just…definitions, I suppose. Now, I need to take a blood sample to close out your examination.”

Worry does not leave Ryan. If anything, it expands as she reaches into the cabinet above the sink to pull out a washcloth. He thinks of her fangs even as she dampens the cloth under the tap, “Shit, ar-are you going to bite me?”

“Best way to do it,” she admits and Ryan’s anxiety shoots up several levels, “W-w-won’t th-that turn me in-in-?”

Another laugh, “No, Ryan. That’s another myth you’re kind has been taught. Vampirism is trickier than that. One bite a vampire will not make. You’re safe.”

She offers him the cloth and while her words are somewhat reassuring, he still eyes the cloth like it’s a loaded gun, “I don’t-?”

“It’s customary to wash off the patch of skin I’m going to sample. Water is best – no chemical smell, helps draw off some of your own natural musk.”

“I’m…musky?”

“Everyone has a scent. That’s universal,” she edges the cloth towards him again, “Either side of your neck or one of your wrists, please.”

Ryan’s whole face scrunches up, body tense as he grabs the cloth and scrubs at his left wrist, “Let’s get it over with.”

“Lovely,” she demurs and he wonders if he insulted her and while he doesn’t want to do that, he’s not jazzed about her sinking her fangs into him either. He’s not a fan of needles and he knows this won’t be any better. It’ll probably be much worse and he closes his eyes tight as he turns away and offers his wrist to her.

He waits for the pain and while there _is_ a prick it’s not…bad. It’s more like any other needle, but it ends abruptly as she turns away, rushing to the sink. She gags, spitting his blood out as if it’s disgusting. And now Ryan’s a little insulted because, what? She’s not a fan of his blood type?

She fishes out a plastic cup and fills it with water, washing her mouth out and her bite is still there on his wrist, little beads of blood forming. Shane eyes it and then her and he looks very unhappy, “That’s not good.”

She runs all the fingers of her right hand roughly over her mouth as it to make sure there’s not a drop of it left before she turns back, “No. No, it’s not.”

She sticks one thumb in her mouth and then brushes it over Ryan’s wound before he can protest. While it seems awfully unsanitary, he watches with fascination as the wound closes instantly, as if she never bit him at all. He rubs at the spot and there’s no pain, no blood, no nothing. Then he looks at her and wishes he didn’t, because her face is grave, “What is it?”

She clears her throat, “When you went over the changes in your life, you mentioned mood swings, breaking your rearview mirror off in your hand-”

“Whoa! You didn’t tell me about that!” Shane interrupts and Ryan scratches at the back of his neck, “Yeah, think I forgot that in your recounting, but I don’t think _I_ broke it.”

“No. You broke it,” the doctor states firmly, “Your strength is enhanced. It’s moved past human levels.”

“It has?” Ryan eyes both of his hands in wonder.

“Ah, that explains why your punch hurt so much,” Shane rubs at the bridge of his nose at the memory as Ryan grumbles, “My punch hurt because it fucking well _should_ have hurt. I _wanted_ it to hurt.”   

“I’m sure his added strength helped it hurt,” Qyrora allows, “As do his ties to…”

She rubs at her forehead in distress before saying, “You mentioned a shadow creature. I had my suspicions when it was mentioned, but I’d hope the blood test would prove negative. It didn’t. You’re attached to a Void.”

“Bullshit,” Shane’s tone is gruff and Ryan can tell he’s ticked off at the suggestion, although he has no idea why, “A what?”

“A Void,” Shane takes over, “She’s saying when I defeated those demons and passed that energy on to you, you didn’t take it. You rejected it or, more to the point, your soul did. When demonic energy has nowhere to go, it creates a Void. But Voids aren’t real and you _did_ take it, because you healed and you’re fine, _you’re fine_ , so-!”

“He took _some_ of the energy,” she argues, “Not all of it. His body took what it needed to survive and that’s all. I promise you, Mr. Madej, Voids _are_ real. Very rare, but very real. And you know what that means.”

Shane is just shaking his head and looking angrier by the second and Ryan’s pretty much panicking, “ _I_ don’t know what it means! Tell me!”

Qyrora looks at him sympathetically, “Voids are without form. Their power grows exponentially until they’re absorbed. The Void recognizes you as its intended host, so it’s been trying to merge with you. And it won’t stop until it’s – until it’s completed that task.”

“It’s…it’s going to kill me,” Ryan gulps loudly, “Isn’t it?”

“No,” her sympathy turns to sorrow, “It will consume you.”

“It won’t,” Shane vows, a vein ticking in his jaw, “I won’t let it.”

“Ryan,” Qyrora looks at him and her eyes are so…warm, “Sleep.”

Ryan does.

 

+

 

“Hey!” Shane catches Ryan before he can fall back and roughly hit the examination table. He gently lowers him, making sure he’s as comfortable as possible as he talks, “You said influence wouldn’t work on him!”

“No, I said your influence wouldn’t work on him. Mine will, but considering his condition, it won’t last long,” her voice comes out in a breathless rush, “Why haven’t you told him everything?”

“I did!”

“The bond is, by definition, more than just friends. He should know that and you should tell him! I also wouldn’t hold back on your previous angelic status, because it’s one of the only things that might help you.”

Shane had been looking over Ryan, making sure he’s resting peacefully, but at this he looks at her, “What? How?”

“Grace might vanquish a Void.”

“I don’t _have_ any grace. Demon, remember? The only way I might get that is if I cozy up to some angel dickwad and we all know how easy that is. Getting even a drop of grace away from one of them is like trying to take guns away from some NRA nut. It’s not going to happen. Ever. There’s got to be some other way.”

Qyrora lets out a hefty breath and drags both her hands through her hair, “Voids aren’t something I’ve had much experience with. No one has had much experience with them. I thought when you said the bond was partial, it was merely because he was unconscious at the time, but it’s more than that. I can’t break your bond, not with that energy running around unchecked. It’s just going to grow more dangerous and more feral with time.”

“What if he absorbs it? You said it would consume him, not kill him.”

“Yes, but if it consumes him, it _will_ change him. He won’t be the Ryan you know, he’ll be-” she draws her hands from her hair, waves at Ryan’s sleeping form, “He’ll be different.”

“How different?”

“Unrecognizable. Violent. Possibly psychotic,” she does her best to look stoic, professional, but is failing, “If he’d absorbed it at the time, he might have adjusted to it. You have. But he’s…I’m not a demon, but even _I_ can sense he has a bright soul. A good one. It didn’t want to be…tainted.”

Shane just looks back at Ryan again. He brushes a hand along his arm. Qyrora licks her lips as she watches them. When next she speaks her voice is very soft, “There’s…another option.”

Shane eyes shift to her.

“If…if you could find it another host. It might level out. I might be able to break the bond then.”

“Another host? What? Sacrifice someone else for Ryan?”

“Or get a vessel? You might be able to find a crafted, inanimate vessel that could hold it. It depends on how strong the Void is. It might break it. It might contain it. Like sealing a genie up in a lamp. I know you killed two demons and they were both bordering on feral to begin with, so…it’s risky.”

Shane eyes go back to Ryan. His fingers touch Ryan’s. They touch ever so lightly, “It’s worth a try. Anything is.”

“Sure you don’t want to complete the bond before trying?”

He doesn’t look at her this time. Instead his fingers still just float around Ryan’s, almost lacing together, almost intertwining. The barest of hand holds.

“It’s…it’s clear you care about him.”

“Yeah,” Shane breathes, “Yeah. I do.”

He crouches down near Ryan’s ear, “Ryan? Buddy? Wake up.”

Qyrora rubs a knuckle under one eye to stop a tear as Ryan hums, eyelashes fluttering as he slowly comes to, “Nuh? Wha-?”

“Think that blood loss got to you, little guy,” Shane whispers and Ryan slowly sits up, looking confused, “Blood-?”

“She bit you. Remember?”

Ryan murmurs again as he sits up and rubs at his wrist, “What’re we talking about?”

“That Void thing. Actually, that might be what made you black out. When you go scaredy-cat you go all out.”

“Not a scaredy-!” Ryan blinks rapidly, waking more, “Oh man. Shit! That Void! It’s gonna consume me!”

“Mm, you _are_ bite-sized, but no, me and the doc got it all figured out,” Shane replies amiably, “We’re gonna catch it Ghostbusters style! Get ourselves a box, lock it up, kick it to the curb. No fuss, no muss.”

Ryan rubs at his eyes, “Really?”

“Yeah! The boys’ve got this! Don’t we, doc?” Shane turns to her and his eyes are begging. She offers the sunniest smile she can, “I know you’ll do your best.”

“Damn right we will! Now, how’s about we get you home, Ry! You’ve had an exciting day.”

“Yeah, yeah – don’t talk to me like I’m five. Sheesh!”

“Well, I _am_ seven, so it makes sense for me to talk down to you like-!”

“God! Shut up, Shane! Doctor Qyrora, nice to meet you.”

“You too, Ryan. Shane. Good luck,” she watches them leave and the moment the door shuts she sits down, feeling crushed, “Good luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was all supposed to be part of Chapter 7, but it was getting very long in the tooth, so I split it up. Hence the quick update.


	9. Chapter 9

“The DMV?”

“Yeah, where else?”

“Okay, look, maybe I was wrong to think the doctor’s office would be in a dirty hole or whatever, but I can’t believe a supernatural administration hub is beneath the DMV!”

“It’s not beneath it. It’s inside it,” Shane reassures Ryan as he shuts off his car engine and unhooks his seat belt. Ugh. He’s been driving more these past few days than he’s ever driven. He much prefers uber or Ryan behind the wheel.

Still, it just feels more appropriate to escort Ryan personally to these sites. Ryan might get distracted while driving and god knows he doesn’t want to loop some random uber driver into their now extra weird conversations.

The conversations before the demon reveal? Weird. The conversations _after_ the demon reveal? Extra weird. So, Shane drives. Which is probably for the best, as Ryan’s been raining down questions on him nonstop. One would think the doctor’s visit yesterday might have tired his friend out but, nope, if anything it’s reinvigorated Ryan, filling him with a whole new set of questions.

So much so that he actually has them penned down in a little journal and Shane’s caught him crossing each one off as he asks. Christ. It’s like an endless James Lipton interview. They’ve been through Shane’s other extraordinary liaisons (a harpy, a couple of succubi, the Jersey devil, etc) as well as the brief bits of history he was awake for (the sacking of Rome, some of the Renaissance, World War II, so on) and frankly, Shane’s glad to be getting the focus back on this monster hunt, because he needs a break.

Which he doesn’t get, as Ryan asks yet _another_ question, “It’s inside and no one notices?”

“Nah,” Shane wonders if he can get away with just that as an answer, but he knows better. At least the questions are moving away from him, “Boring, inconspicuous places are chosen on purpose. Humans don’t gravitate towards carpet and rug stores and DMVs for fun. Have you ever seen a business and thought – how is that place still open?”

Ryan nods.

“There you go.”

“But DMVs are necessary.”

“They are, but again – people only go in there if they have to. They have a reputation for being poorly run and tedious and if there’s one thing we’re good at, it’s building reputations.”

“Like the reputation that all demons are evil,” Ryan offers and Shane eyes him, “Who says they aren’t?”

“You don’t scream evil to me.”

“I drank the last beer you had in your fridge last night.”

“I take it back, you’re a monster,” Ryan returns with a grin and Shane laughs and just as he’s about to open the door for Ryan, Ryan stops him with a hand on his elbow. His face is uncharacteristically serious, so Shane stops, “Yeah?”

“Um, so,” Ryan draws in a shaky breath, “I’ve…yeah, I’ve had one question I’ve been meaning to ask you, but I…I sort've been holding out on it.”

“Did you write that one down too?” Shane tries for levity but Ryan’s clearly planted his feet firmly in solemn waters, so Shane takes on the same air, “Okay, what is it.”

“This…this bond thing…”

Shane’s heart skips a beat.

“There’s…there’s more to it than you’ve told me. Isn’t there?”

Shane licks his lips and his heart hasn’t quite settled from its jump. If anything, it’s beating double time and he doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until it whooshes out with his next word, “Yes.”

Ryan is obviously waiting for him to say more. He doesn’t. Shane doesn’t, because he doesn’t know how to say more and oh god, he _really_ doesn’t want tell Ryan about it. There’ve been so many changes lately and once this one is out…he honestly doesn’t know what will happen. And even for a demon, the unknown is frightening.

When it becomes clear he’s not going to say more, Ryan courageously picks up the thread, “Are you going to tell me?”

Shane looks at the door and then at Ryan and oh boy, he wishes he could get out of this one. So he does, “I will.”

Ryan grunts and he’s clearly frustrated, so quickly Shane tags on, “Look, Ryan, I will tell you. I promise, alright. Just…not now. Okay? Let’s get this over with and then later…later I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”

Ryan glares at him, “You’ve said that before and it’s never _everything._ ”

“Yeah,” Shane admits and Ryan sighs, “Withholding is just as bad as lying to me.”

“I know.”

“And I told you not to lie to me anymore.”

“I know.”

Ryan looks very unhappy and Shane waits, fingers crossed, wings crossed, everything just…crossed and hoping and finally Ryan concedes, “Fine. Fine. You can tell me later. But you _will_ tell me.”

Shane relaxes so visibly that Ryan laughs, “Didn’t even know you could get that tense.”

“Of course I can, Ryan. Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I can’t get tense,” he then adds, “Although I will confess I get less tense than most.”

“Is that because you – what did you call it? Occasionally smoke the funny cigarettes?”

“Get your ass in here,” Shane chuckles as he opens the DMV door for his friend, who steps in and probably expects to see some kind of change, to notice the difference now that he knows the truth.

Shane knows he doesn’t. The DMV looks the same way it always does. Awful. A stuffy, overly bureaucratic little shithole where everyone looks like they’re tired and want to die. Absolutely normal, everyday mortals sit around with their eyes glued on their phones; some kids are crying in the distance, people yawn. Yeah, very average. Shane catches the surprise in Ryan’s eyes, “Not every place we go is going to be some dazzling spectacle.”

Ryan’s lips screw up to one side, “I don’t know, man. I guess I just thought I’d step through those doors and be transported.”

“What? You were expecting Hogwarts?” 

Another nod, “At most Mos Eisley.”

“Star Wars,” Shane rubs at his eyes, “That again.”

“Hey! I love those films!”

“I know you do,” he groans thinking of the one hundred and one times he’s heard Ryan talk about them, “Come on, it’ll get more thrilling here in a second,”

Shane moves over to where Judy sits and when she sees him she does something he never thought he’d see her do. _Smile_. It’s a big smile too. All happy and bright and he’s completely confused (and a little scared) until he realizes it’s not directed at him at all, “Mr. Bergara!”

Ryan looks about as surprised as Shane feels. More so when Judy comes out from behind her desk and trundles up to him, “I heard you’d be coming by today! Oh, what with Mr. Madej here leveling up and bonding you, it’s been such an exciting time for us! Me and a couple of the fellas took out some time to watch your show and just look at you! You’re just as adorable in person as you are on the YouTube!”

She reaches out and actually pinches his cheek and Shane’s lived a very long time, so he can honestly say he’s never actually seen anyone do this. Ever. And here’s Judy doing it to Ryan. She waggles his face back and forth and Ryan looks wildly uncomfortable, clearly unsure of what to do.

When she releases him she just sort of wiggles, “I’m not much one for you types, you know,” she leans very close and whispers, “’humans’, but you have to be about the sweetest one I’ve ever seen!”

“Um, thanks?” Ryan returns and she giggles ( _she giggles_ ), “When I was working in the Pit, there was nothing I loved more than torture. I mean, torturing humans is my favorite pastime, hands down, but honestly I don’t think I could stand harming a hair on that pretty little head of yours, d’aww…”

She reaches out and pets him. Like he’s a dog. Shane shoots her a look, “Judy, Jesus - get ahold of yourself, will ya? Come on.”

She draws her hand back and looks at Shane and there it is! There’s the Judy he knows and loves. She sniffs at him as if he’s something distasteful she’s just found under her shoe, “It’s a shame, Mr. Bergara, dear, that _this_ is what you’re bonded to. If you _had_ to choose a demon, _any_ demon, you could have done so much better.”

“Now, now – you know I’m your favorite,” Shane grins, “Besides, he didn’t choose me.”

“Yeah, I kind of got stuck with him,” Ryan confirms, “back when we were interns we…oh, no, wait,” he eyes Shane, “Guess that doesn’t even have anything to do with it now, huh? You didn’t just sit across from me randomly at Buzzfeed, did you? You were probably planted there from the beginning! All part of your super-secret real job!”

Shane just sticks out his bottom lip as he nods because, well, yeah. That _is_ how it happened. But he hastens to add, “Although that original assignment has really given way to what I _actually_ do now. Which is help you with the show.”

“I thought you said you make sure I don’t discover anything concrete.”

“I do and I don’t. It’s…complicated.

“ _Psh_ , yeah. I’ll just bet,” Ryan snorts and this is a bone of contention they still haven’t quite settled. They’ve been ignoring it, but Shane knows one of the things that hurts Ryan the most is the idea that Shane’s tampered with the show in some way. Unsolved is Ryan’s hard work and to think Shane sabotaged it is a sore subject.

Thankfully Judy distracts them, “Look at you two! Already fighting like a couple that’s been bonded for centuries. Did you boys like the basket we sent?”

“'Couple’?” Ryan repeats even as Shane starts making shushing sounds and motions, but Judy’s on a roll, switching Ryan’s mind from one hot button topic to another, “I sure hope you got a lot of use out of the fun stuff I sent for the quickening. I’ve never been bonded myself, but I hear that some newlys go at it for _days_. Can you imagine? _Days_! I mean, how can you even-?”

“JUDY!” Shane snaps and his voice raises a lot more than he meant it to. Several eyes turn to him and he can feel himself coloring, “Could you just-? Could you get Michael on the horn? Please?”

The last is added as an afterthought and while she thankfully doesn’t flinch, she does look miffed as she goes back behind her desk. Shane almost, _almost_ , misses the deference from his previous trip. At least then she wasn’t running off at the mouth, although apparently Ryan is the cause of that and fuck, _Ryan_.

His friend is looking at him with eyes narrowed, suspicions clearly high. Shane avoids eye contact, hands busying themselves in his jeans pockets while he wishes he was anywhere else, any _one_ else. Judy hangs up the blue phone, “Michael is ready for you.”

“Ah, thanks. Sorry, I, um,” Shane mutters and he starts towards the door to Michael’s office only to be held up by Judy dashing in front of him. She can certainly move fast when she wants to. Her eyes are directed on Ryan though as she opens the door, “Here you go, dear. Second door on the left.”

“Thanks, Judy. Nice to meet you.”

“You too! And,” she comes closer and whispers, “it’s Jugaratha.”

“Oh…that’s-that’s pretty,” Ryan offers and she does the giggle again. Christ. Ryan goes through and she glowers at Shane, “Sir.”

“You never told me your real name.”

“You never asked, sir.”

“Don’t-don’t start with that again. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

She just lets out a little harrumph noise and turns on her heels, walking away. Shane sighs and goes through the door, following after Ryan. Ryan’s not far from Michael’s door but he’s stopped dead to look right at Shane and for someone so tall, Shane’s never felt so small, “What?”

“You know, I’m not stupid.”

A notch forms between Shane’s eyebrows, showcasing his confusion, “I…? Never said you were?”

“I mean, I didn’t figure out the whole ‘Shane’s a demon’ thing, but that’s only because there’s no way I really could have worked that one out.”

“Ah, okay?” Shane’s still stumped.

“But I can connect the dots. I do my research – whether it’s a cold case or a paranormal investigation, I come up with theories, draw reasonable conclusions.”

“Alright,” Shane says for lack of anything else to say and then Ryan crosses his arms. Suddenly Shane feels like Ryan is towering over him as he boldly states, “So, are you sure you don’t want to tell me what else the bond entails? Because I have to say, I think I have a pretty good idea what it is. And if it’s what I think it is…”

Shane swallows. The noise is audible, his throat clicking noisily in the quiet of the hall, “Ryan…”

“Yes?” Ryan asks but it’s not so much a question as it’s a dare and Shane feels sweat form under his clothes, “I, um…”

“Boys?” Michael pops his head out of his office, “Ah! There you are! You two coming in or what? Don’t want to waste your time in the hallway, do you?”

Shane takes the lifeline and goes straight into Michael’s office, Ryan at his heels. Once the door is closed, Michael offers a hand to Ryan, “Mr. Bergara, pleasure to meet you! I’m Malthazor and I’ll be your supernatural liaison.”

Ryan looks at his hand warily, “Malthazor?”

“Yes, yes. Michael is the human name, Malthazor the proper one. You can call me either.”

“I’ll…I’ll go with…Malthazor,” Ryan says it slowly as if he answers wrong, he’ll be at the mercy of the unknown demon. He still eyes the hand even as he shakes it and Malthazor laughs, “Don’t worry! No deal being made here! Not my department! Now, if you gentlemen will take a seat, please.”

Ryan and Shane take their seats and Ryan is just eyeing Malthazor, who catches the look and asks, “Yes?”

“Oh, uh,” Ryan shifts about his seat, “I was just-? I mean, I-I hope this isn’t rude, but…between you and Judy and Shane, I just – none of you really look like, you know, demons.”

Malthazor laughs, “I get that all the time.”

“Really?”

“Yes and always from new inductees like yourself. I don’t know how much Mr. Madej told you, but it all depends on the level and type of demon you’re dealing with.”

“Yeah, he hasn’t told me much,” Ryan mutters and Shane wants to argue that. Especially considering how many goddamn questions he answered on the way here, but he lets it go. If anything, because at least now the questions are being directed to someone else, “I was wondering about this whole level thing. I’ve heard it mentioned, but no one’s explained it.”

“Really?” Malthazor blinks and looks to Shane and Shane’s tempted to flip him the bird on principle, “Well, demons are ranked by level. The level is based on a culmination of things. Power set, age, birth, prestige, and so on. For example, I’m a level two. I’m Hell born, have several centuries under my belt, and have worked as both a human DMV official as well as a demon government contractor. Mr. Madej here-”

“Shane,” he tries again, but no one seems to be listening to him today.

“-was a level one. But, due to recent circumstances, he's risen to, from what I understand from the physician’s report, a level four.”

Ryan goes to open his mouth but Malthazor beats him to it, “Demons rise in level through a variety of means, but the most common and respected is through the defeat and assimilation of energy from other demons. Challenges. Almost always physical, very violent. I,” he draws this out an obscene amount before, “don’t believe you were conscious for your friend’s efforts. Would you like to see?”

“Oh no, that’s-!” Shane starts but, again, not one is listening to him today as Ryan looks pumped, practically shouting, “Yeah!”

“Come, come,” Malthazor motions Ryan to come around his desk and Ryan jumps to his feet, nearly dashing around to look at Malthazor’s computer screen. He frowns at it, “Is…is this like, the dark web?”

Malthazor laughs, “No, no. The spectral web. You can only access it as a paranormal being. Now, this video isn’t the best quality, but it’s quite thrilling.”

Shane remembers the video and rubs at the side of his nose because, come on, it’s not _that_ thrilling. Ryan clearly doesn’t feel that way. He actually pales a little, “Oh god…”

“Yeah, yeah. Those two are the demons your buddy took on. Grasolib and Hazothor and before you ask, no, Haz and I were of no relation. Lots of demons in the Pit with similar sounding names. Not much for originality down there. Not that the Holy Legion are any better.”

“That’s…that’s what I imagined a demon would look like…” Ryan points at the screen and while Shane doesn’t rise from his own seat, he knows exactly what Ryan is talking about. Malthazor nods, “Yeah. They were level fives. Grasolib in particular dropped any pretenses of humanity long ago. Did you see the extra eyes on him? He’s like, part spider!”

Ryan swallows thickly and if anything his eyes get bigger as he points again, “That’s-that’s-?”

“Yup! Your buddy in action! Oh, oh, oh! I love this part!” Malthazor turns up the volume and an unearthly screech fills the air as well as the leathery sound of demonic wings flapping, “Isn’t he spectacular?”

Ryan doesn’t look like he finds Shane spectacular. If anything he looks like he’s about to be sick and one of Shane’s hands curl into a fist, pressing against his mouth. He tries to remain slouched and nonchalant in this situation, but it’s hard. He closes his eyes, lids flickering when he hears the sounds of crashing and squealing metal.

“Did you see that? Bet you didn’t think your guy could fight, huh? But that’s the best thing about this, you know? It’s a real street brawl. None of that slick, choreographed bull you see around here. LA’s always shooting these fight scenes that are just – nowhere close to how it really is. It’s like _this_ – brutal! Look at the blood spray! The jerky, rough movements, just – look, look, this bit here! This shit kills me!”

Shane hears sharp snaps followed by this awful ripping noise (his teeth digging down the other demon’s throat, exposing bloody inner sinew) and he rubs at his forehead. He still only remembers bits and pieces of the fight. As much as he hates it, Malthazor pegged it. He’d been berserk at the time. Just thinking of the possibility of Ryan being dead and gone…it had done something to him. Drawn out something dark and forgotten and just…

He bites his bottom lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bleed. The video ends and Ryan returns to his seat, but he looks shaken and he won’t take his eyes off Shane. He’s looking at him like he did a couple of nights ago. Like he doesn’t know him. Shane despises that look. He does the only thing he can think of and he directs his attention to Malthazor, “Yeah, so, we’re here for a reason-”

“Right! Of course!” Malthazor starts digging through the mess on his desk and Shane finally feels some levity return to him, “Cleaning lady on vacation?”

“Hey, I have a system. Sort of,” he grumbles and tosses papers and files here and there. He digs deeper and Shane sees a half-eaten sandwich in the mix, “Is that-?”

“It’s not that old!” is the defensive response, so it’s clear Malthazor’s heard this one before, “The mayonnaise hasn’t turned! I’m gonna finish it! I just-!”

The sandwich is tucked away into his desk and finally Ryan talks, “Shane could tell you about these great spicy hot dogs…”

“Are you talking about those airport dogs I got at baggage claim?” Shane shudders at the memory and Ryan lets out his classic little wheeze, “Those hot dogs not demon friendly?”

“They were no one friendly. Mortal, other – they were just – they were _bad_.”

“They were bad dogs,” Ryan confirms and Shane adds, “They were witch dogs, like Pam…”

“Oh Christ,” Ryan’s head tips back, his annoyance always on full display whenever the Hot Daga is mentioned. Shane edges his seat closer, “You want me to give you a couple of spoilers?”

“NO.”

“I will if you ask really nicely.”

“I don’t want to know anything about it, I don’t want you to keep doing it, I don’t – I mean, _did_ you torture people in Hell? Huh? Is that it? Did you join up with Judy and like, read people that shit and just watch as the will to live left their eyes?”

“I’m...not going to say Walt Disney helped with it or anything, but-!”

This gets a loudly amused snort, “Walt Disney? You’re telling me Walt Disney is in Hell and he helped you write the Hot Daga?”

“A lot of people are in Hell, Ryan.”

“You said bad people. Truly awful, despicable-!”

 “You’re telling me you liked ‘Fantasia’?”

“WHAT?!” Ryan cries, “That film-! The animation-! Music-!”

He can’t seem to form full sentences and Shane’s having the time of his life, “Yeah, it was a one way ticket, man. He wrote his own check. Took the expressway downstairs. It’s like you said about dancing with the devil and getting burned and that wasn’t even half the masterpiece the Hot Daga is. Shame ol’ Walt can’t take more credit.”

“You-!” Ryan’s collapses into giggles, barely able to speak, “You’re so full of shit, dude.”

Shane just laughs along and then Malthazor snaps his fingers, “Ah ha! Here we go! And, listening to you two gentlemen, it looks like I got this just in time! Now, Mr. Bergara, if you would please…”

He pushes a manila folder with several sheaves of stapled paperwork towards him, “You can take your time reading all the fine print if you like. Humans are, understandably, hesitant when it comes to contracts drafted by us. However, you’ll find that everything is on the up and up here. It’s not like we’re meeting at some dirty crossroads or a drafty bridge or something.”

“What’s this?” Ryan picks up one set of papers, eyes darting back and forth as he quickly reads aloud, “Sworn statement in regards to the bonding of Shane Alexander Madej and Ryan Steven Bergara, who shall collectively be known herein as the parties, are recognizing now and forever as being one and the same in all matters pertaining to-?”

He flips a page, scans some more, “…parties are setting forth in this Agreement to their respective rights for the status, ownership, and division of all property and assets either owns at the date of their bond as well as any that are acquired by either or both of them after the date…the fuck?”

“Yeah,” Malthazor looks a bit sheepish, “If you need anything translated, just let me know. Legalese was one of the first languages that came out of the Pit. Drives humans bonkers.”

Shane feels cold all over, because this is not what he brought Ryan here for and his eyes are wide as he tries to snatch the paperwork away, but Ryan’s too fast for him, literally vaulting out of his chair as he continues reading, “…setting forth their rights regarding bondmate support and/or maintenance and in the event of death or discorporealment recognizing…”

Shane gets up from his spot and dammit, he should be faster, but somehow Ryan’s easily evading him. They’re practically chasing one another all around the office, occasionally wrestling over the papers like little kids over toys.

Ryan keeps using one hand to bat him away and ducking under Shane’s long arms, dodging right out of his reach. Shane actually trips over one of the chairs, cursing a blue streak as he collapses in an awkward tangle of limbs. Ryan, for his part, climbs on top of his own chair, king of the mountain, as his voice grows thunderous, “…parties acknowledge this agreement is fair and equitable, that it is being entered into voluntarily and is not the result of any duress or undue influence and that bonding is the scared right of uniting two beings in-! GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT! WE’RE FUCKING _MARRIED_ , AREN’T WE!”

It is not a question and Ryan punctuates it by throwing the papers at the heap that is Shane. Malthazor looks rattled. Shane just groans, remaining in his painful position, “Mal? Could…could you give us a minute?”

“O-oh! Ye-yeah, I-I’ll just-!” Malthazor grabs his mug of coffee and nearly dashes out, clearly relieved not to be in the middle of a domestic dispute. He’s probably going to the water cooler now. He’ll talk to Phil and Judy and whoever the fucking hell else he wants to. Office gossip about the level four and his bondmate that didn’t know what a bond was. Bastard.

“Shane,” Ryan’s voice is quieter now and that’s scarier and Shane really is in a lot of pain. The way he fell, his elbow collided with something and it stings. He normally has a much higher threshold for pain, but…he’s kind of vulnerable right now. In so, so many ways.

“Ryan.”

“Answer. The. Question.”

Shane just inhales loudly. He closes his eyes and starts untangling himself from where he fell, “Alright. Just,” he waves a hand, “Just let me explain…”

“I knew it,” Ryan grumbles as he hops off the chair and starts pacing, running a hand through his hair, “I know you think I’m a fucking moron, the stupidest human alive-“

“I’ve never said that,” Shane tries but Ryan isn’t listening.

“-but the way everyone kept talking about the bond and the way you’d get all weird about it and I kept saying to myself, no, no it can’t be that. Because it’s so – it’s so fucking, I don’t – I don’t even know the right word? Okay? What is it? Rude? Does rude work? No, no that’s not strong enough-”

“Ryan.”

“-and ho, the mate thing. That’s what clenched it. ‘They say mate in England, Ryan! It doesn’t mean anything!’”

“That’s not…I didn’t exactly say…”

“-and Gladys saying I was taken and then looking at you and you did that with the doctor too, just you all looking at one another, mentally talking about me like I wasn’t there - and here I am, the big dumb human dope, and I’m thinking, maybe,  just maybe, they think I’m like, your pet, but they’re also treating me with respect, so it can’t be that, so it has to be something more-”

“ _Ryan_!” Shane standing now, his voice is sharp enough to break through his friend’s anxious (and angry) rambling, “Would you just shut up for a second?”

“Are-are you serious?” Ryan hisses, “You’re telling _me_ to shut up! After all the lies and the things you’ve done and you have-have the audacity to just-!”

“I’m. TRYING. To. EXPLAIN.” Shane enunciates each word and Ryan’s expression is tight, hands balled fists and Shane’s not completely unconvinced he won’t get decked again. Then, much to his surprise, Ryan sits, mouth the world’s tightest, angriest line as he just waves a hand. The universal gesture of ‘good luck, try to explain this one, jackass’.

Shane lets out a hefty breath and rubs at the bridge of his nose, feeling suddenly about as old as he actually is, voice weary, “I didn’t intend to lie. Alright? Not-not about this. I was going to tell you. I promised you I would, didn’t I? Right outside. I said I was going to tell you and I _was_. I didn’t expect Mal to just – just shove those papers under your nose. We came here to get access to the Lot. That’s all. I guess…I guess when I set up this meeting he didn’t know that. I wasn’t clear about why we were coming and he probably got the doctor’s notes and just…came to his own conclusions.”

Ryan doesn’t say anything, but he still looks all huffy, so Shane continues as calmly and soothingly as he can, “Look, I didn’t…I didn’t want you to find out like this. Fuck, everything you’ve found out hasn’t gone the way I’d’ve wanted it to. I didn’t plan to bust into your place and reveal I was a demon. I didn’t plan on telling you about my supernatural job. I didn’t plan on telling you how old I was. And I certainly didn’t plan on you finding out about the bond if I could help it but, events went in such a way that it just- it all came out. And not at all in a way that’s nice or neat or…whatever.”

He sits next to Ryan and can’t look at him. He just sort of collapses, the curve of his hand pressing to his forehead as he eyes close, “Look, I never liked keeping all this from you. In the beginning…in the beginning you were just a job. You were just a human. But then I got to know you and like you and you became my friend and I…I never really had a friend before. Not like you. It’s why I’ve been awake so long. It’s why I didn’t ‘transfer’ or move or find another job or a girl or a boy or…whatever lame excuse I would have used to leave.”

He licks his lips and shakes his head, “I wanted to stay. I wanted to _be_ Shane Madej. The Shane Madej you knew. Not the level one demon, not the one part of a secret world that’s – I don’t know, turduckened inside the mortal one. I wanted to be…human, I guess. Or at least, human with you.”

He shifts about a little, uncomfortable at the honesty, but he pushes himself on because he has to make this right, “And humans do things for one another. Nice things. Things like birthdays and that’s when this all went sideways. I didn’t want to bond you, but I had no choice. You were going to die. I couldn’t let you die. Do you get that? I couldn’t…I couldn’t bear it if…”

His stupid eyes heat under his closed eyelids and it’s so goddamn stupid, “…bonding is like marriage. It is. In some ways. But it’s not like marriage like you know. And we’re not married in the mortal sense. You can leave if you want. You can walk away from me. You can never see me again, never speak to me again. I’d-I’d get it. I’d understand. If-if you want nothing to do with me after all this, that’s okay. It’s fair. I abused your trust, I lied to you, I…wasn’t the kind of friend that you deserved. I’m not half the friend that you are to me.”

Shane’s mouth twitches, nostrils sniffing, and he’s not fucking _crying_ , because that’s just-!

“So, if this is the end, I understand. But…we have to finish this out first. We have to stop the Void together, because it’s my fault and I can’t-I won’t –be responsible for it hurting you. I have to do one thing right. Let me just…do this one thing…”

“You finished?” Ryan asks and his voice is very soft and Shane rubs at his eyes as he blinks them open. He still doesn’t look at Ryan and then he feels a very light punch on his right shoulder, “Hey, hey. Come on.”

Shane doesn’t even know what the fuck that means. His throat is thick with unshed tears and his face is all hot and he’s never felt so miserable. So _human_. It’s funny; humanity pretty much boils down to two emotions strongly felt. Misery and happiness. He could certainly go for some happiness right about now.

And, apparently, Ryan decides to deliver it, “I didn’t know you could blubber.”

“Wh-what?”

“Like, get all emotional and…” Ryan makes this weird, over the top crying sound.

 “I’m not like that!”

“Yeah, you are. This is worse than when I punched you. This is worse than when you talked about Corporal Wojtek. You’re wringing your hands and bawling. Sobbing.”

“I am not!”

“Please. You’re like someone seeing the end of ‘Titanic’ for the first time.”

“I didn’t cry when I saw that! I laughed!”

“Wow, you’re a dick!”

“I am not – the end was so overly maudlin and ridic-” Shane stops and realizes he’s looking right at Ryan and Ryan…he doesn’t look like he hates him, “Wa-wait. Aren’t-aren’t you-?”

Ryan’s eyebrows rise as Shane just stops and he does as Shane asked; waits. But when it becomes clear Shane isn’t going to continue he asks, “Aren’t I what?”

“I-I don’t know,” Shane sucks in and he realizes he is a _little_ tear-congested, “Aren’t you going to tell me you never want to see me again? Tell me you hate me and that I’m a liar and-?”

“Oh, you _are_ a liar, my friend. But,” Ryan shrugs, looks uncomfortable, “I don’t know. I mean, I _am_ mad, but I’m-? It’s strange, but I don’t hate you. I should. God, I reaaaaaally fucking should. But, it’s just-? There’s something about your silly, sloth-looking face that makes it so I just can’t.”

“Yeah?” Shane asks; voice very soft and very hopeful.

“Yes, you look like a sloth,” Ryan confirms and at Shane’s ‘Ryan’, he grins, “No, yeah – I don’t hate you. I _am_ mad. And I’m probably going to be mad forever, but…we’ve been through a lot together. And okay, yeah, maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought I did and maybe you’re a demon and maybe you apparently tricked me into some kind of supernatural marriage which, by the way, we are totally getting annulled asap, but…”

Now it’s Ryan’s turn to look wildly awkward, eyes on his fingernails as he mutters, “…you know; I’ve never had a friend like you either.”

“Yeah?” Shane repeats and his heart is…doing something really dumb in his chest. This sort of weird, twisting, fluttering thing. Like butterflies let loose, running amok within the cavity of his chest. Especially when Ryan’s dark eyes glance over in his direction, “I mean, I’ve had friends. Lots of friends. I still have friends. But there’s something about you in particular,” he does look at him now, face scrunched up, “You’re not, like, using some power on me. Right? Some persuasion or charm thing. Because if so, that _is_ unforgiveable.”

“No, Ryan. This charm is all natural,” Shane promises and he gets an eye roll for his trouble. Shane feels a little more confident as he continues, “I’ll be honest-”

“That’s a rare change of pace,” Ryan interjects dryly.

“-I was hoping to break the bond before you ever found out. That’s what I wanted. But it didn’t work out that way. And, according to the doc, we can’t break it until this Void business is taken care of.”

Ryan frowns, “I don’t remember her saying that.”

“She told me. I’m the alpha in this package deal.”

“I’m-?” Ryan puffs but there’s clear amusement in the sound, “You’re unbelievable. You make it really hard to forgive you, you know that?”

“What? My sloth face isn’t doing it for you anymore?” Shane jokes, “What…if…I…talk…real…slow.”

He draws out each word to a painful degree and Ryan rubs at his face, “Shit, you _would_ have to drag someone unconscious into a marriage with you. Only way it’d ever happen.”

“You can call it a bond if you want. Again, it’s not marriage in the traditional human sense.”

“Ha! Not according to the paperwork Mal gave me,” Ryan finds the paperwork and picks it up, lightly bapping Shane on the head with it, “This says I have rights to your income and property. Pretty standard marriage stuff. And, dude, it’s so fucked up I was married and didn’t even know it. And married to _you_ of all people.”

Shane ignores how the butterflies in his chest are being pinned down - sharp, sticking needles driven right through them, “What’s wrong with being married to me?”

“Where would you like me to start?” Ryan sighs and some of the hurt must show on Shane’s face, because he looks somewhat apologetic, “Shane, you’re a demon. That’s not exactly what I had in mind for a spouse. Not to mention we’re friends, so it’s – it’s odd.”

“Odd isn’t always bad.”

“I didn’t say this is _bad_ , per say. Just…fuck, I don’t know. Complicated,” Ryan breathes in loudly through his nose, “The only reason I’m not freaking out more is, well, for one thing – I’ve about reached my zenith for freak outs. For another, I’ve worked at Buzzfeed a very long time and done some pretty trippy shit. Hell, Jen and Kelsey were married for a week and they made it work so, I mean, I guess this is a bit like that? Except we are _not_ taping this and putting it on YouTube.”

Shane scratches under his chin, “Hmm, might want to reconsider. Our fans would probably eat this up.”

“You mean the ones who write fan fiction and make playlists for us? Those fans?”

This earns him an assessing eye, “I didn’t know they made playlists.”

Ryan blinks rapidly, “What?”

“Playlists. You’ve seen playlists for us?”

“Um…”

“Where? On Spotify?”

“Ah…”

“Did you listen to them, Ryan?” Shane’s tone is nothing short of pure glee, “We’re they all lovey dovey and meaningful? Poignant, wisely chosen lyrics? Was their artwork attached? Oh! Fan art! That’s a thing! Did you find any of that? Have you been trolling-?”

“I’m ignoring you now,” is his answer but Shane can see he’s blushing and he plans on continuing to poke at him when a knock rings out. They look at the door and can hear a muffled, “Can I come in?”

Shane gets to his feet and opens the door to see Malthazor there, full coffee cup in hand, “Um, did you guys settle-?”

“Yes, yes. It’s all worked out now.”

“I…really didn’t mean to cause trouble…”

“Uh huh,” Shane hums with disbelief as he steps back so Malthazor can enter and return to his desk. Malthazor takes his seat and looks between them, “So, ah, are we-? Are we _not_ signing the paperwork or-?”

“Oh, he’s signing it.”

Ryan and Malthazor talk at the same time, a combo of ‘I am?’ mixed with ‘He is?’ and Shane gives one firm nod, “Just in case.”

“Just in case what?” Ryan voice pitches up higher and it’s obvious he has an idea, so Shane just rolls with it, “In case something should happen to me. We _are_ hunting a near mythological creature and as someone who is recognized as such a thing, that’s saying a lot.”

“I’m…sorry. What are you-?”  Malthazor raises a hand in question and Shane beams, “Didn'tja hear, buddy? We’re out to hunt ourselves a Void.”

“A VOID?” Malthazor looks horrified and, being someone who enjoys that sort of thing, Shane laughs brightly, “Yeah, shoulda read the whole report the physician sent. Unless she didn’t include that bit. And, by the by, that’s why we’re _actually_ here. We need access to the Lot again. We’re trying to get our hands on a vessel.”

Ryan intercedes, “Yeah, okay, that’s true, but that doesn’t explain why you also want me to sign this paperwork. Because if you mean ‘just in case’ like ‘just in case I die’ or something I’m telling you right now - nope, no, no no! That ain’t gonna happen. Not ever!”

“Everybody’s got their time some time, Ryan. Better you sign the papers just in case. No one I’d rather have having access to all my shit than you,” Shane is still standing, so he claps his hand on Ryan’s back and Ryan looks up at him as if he’s insane, “Dude, nothing’s going to happen to you. Or to me for that matter!”

“Damn right, nothing’s happening to you,” this is vowed with all seriousness but Ryan suddenly has a devious thought, “Wait, this works both ways, right? Is that it? You’re hoping the Void’ll murk me so you can get my stuff?”

“Of course, Ryan! How else am I gonna get my hands on your X-Box One?” the volley is part of their normal banter, but there’s this edge to it. More so when Shane grabs the papers and a pen and shoves them both towards Ryan, “Come on, dotted line, there you go.”

“Shane…”

“Ryan,” his voice drops in volume, “Nothing’s going to happen. But…I’d feel better. Please.”

Ryan looks at the papers and then Shane and then the papers again, “If…if I _do_ sign this…it’ll be invalid after we defeat the Void and break the bond. Right?”

Shane looks to Malthazor, who still looks stumped by everything he’s witnessed, “Uh, yeah. Sure! I can do that for you, fellas.”

Ryan takes the papers and the pen and with the world’s heftiest sigh starts signing. Shane turns to Malthazor, “Lot access, please?”

“Oh!” Malthazor seems surprised to be addressed again and he turns to his computer. His fingers flash over the keys, noisy in their typing and when they finally stop he gives a jerk of his head, “Done! You boys can go whenever you like. You’re both approved.”

“Great,” Shane says and Ryan pushes the completed paperwork on to Malthazor’s desk like it’s toxic. Shane bends over the papers and signs off on his parts before turning towards the door, “Ryan? You ready?”

Ryan gets to his feet and he looks a little numb as he follows after Shane. They exit back out into the DMV but Ryan stops Shane, tugging on the back of his jacket. Shane stops and turns to look at his friend who has the most troubled expression, “What…what did we just do?”

“Took some precautions,” Shane reassures him and he nudges him with one elbow, “Look, don’t be so glum. I’m just doing what I haven’t been able to do this whole frickin’ time, make my own choices. Like covering my bases.”

“Your bases in case we die,” Ryan mutters and Shane shrugs, “Hey, it’s like you said. It’s like I said. It won’t happen. We’re the boys. Together? No one can fuck with us.”

Ryan looks a little heartened by this and Shane turns back around again, intent on leaving when Judy walks up, “Glad I caught you before you left, Mr. Madej.”

“Ah, god, Judy…” he groans because she says it in the snippest way possible, clearly doing it because she knows he doesn’t like it and she’s still miffed about earlier, “This never made it into your bonding basket. Thought you might like it.”

She precedes to hand him the biggest, thickest, most preposterously hot neon pink dildo known to man. Ryan just goggles at it and even Shane’s eyes widen a little. Judy looks thrilled, “This should help. You know; if you hit another quickening patch.”

“I-?”

She pats Ryan’s shoulder, “Heard at the water cooler he keeps you in the dark, honey, and that’s just so not fair. You make sure to ask him alllllll about quickenings, huh? And in great, _great_ detail.”

Judy winks and leaves them both and without even speaking to one another, they think the exact same thing at the exact same time.

That Judy is, without a doubt, the most evil demon of them all.


	10. Chapter 10

“Sort of weird to be back at this place,” Ryan says as he gets out of the car. The shipping yard looms in front of them, the night dark and tranquil and Shane looks over it all without any reservations, “Why?”

“Why? You know why! I _died_ here.”

“I told you, you _didn’t_ die. You were just…less than alive.”

“Oh yeah, big difference,” Ryan laughs but it’s a breathless sound because, well, _death_. He’s thought about it the way he’s sure everyone has. In this abstract way. It crosses your mind – how will you go? What will be the ultimate cause of your demise? But it’s definitely an unsolved mystery that he’s okay with staying a mystery.

Granted, he’s not dead. He’s very much here, alive and present, but the fact is, he was certainly on his way to the grave. Pretty shitty he doesn’t remember that. Not that he wants to, but man – to die and just not see it coming. Obviously people have, but it’s not something they think about.

No one thinks – hey, this car is going to veer out of nowhere and hit me or hey, I’m going to trip and fall down these stairs or hey, my heart is just going to straight up give out on me. No one thinks they’re that person who is going to randomly pass away and, far as he knows, that’s how he died. He was just out with Shane, doing their thing, and then?

The memories are right on the edge of his mind, but unattainable and he really wishes everything in his life would stop being such a godamn secret. Shane’s secretly a demon, Ryan secretly (sorta) dies, Shane and Ryan are secretly married and that one! Oh ho – _that one_! Ryan’s still tripping over it. He has been since the moment he started to really suspect that was the case.

From the very beginning, when Shane first mentioned the bond, Ryan felt there was more to it. It was such an odd turn of phrase and every entity they came across mentioned it in this way that just seemed…marriage-y. But he kept denying it to himself because, on top of everything else, it seemed like just too much.

But then, big ol’ ice cream sundaes are always topped with a cherry and this is the fucking cherry of his current situation. Marriage. To _Shane_. And Ryan knows he hurt Shane’s feelings back at Malthazor’s office but, come on, no one would be thrilled to find out they’re secretly hitched. Much less to a _demon_. The creature that’s horrified and enthralled him since the very beginning.

Don’t fuck with demons – his number one rule and now here he is – newlyweds with one!

The fact that it’s Shane is the one and only thing that makes it bearable and Ryan knows he didn’t quite convey that. But how can he? It just seems too emotional. And they’ve been doing so much of that lately. Shit, Shane almost _cried_ and Ryan’s still not over that.

He didn’t even know his tall counterpart could emote that particular feeling. Shane and sadness are two things that are not compatible. The idea of Shane sad seems like something he can’t do, like it’s an uncharacteristic trait, and Ryan recognizes how fucked up that is, because of course Shane can get sad. He’s…alright, he’s not _human_ , but he’s _alive_ and he’s _decent_ and he’s…oh god, Ryan’s _husband_.

And Ryan should endeavor never to think about him that way again. Not ever. Bondmate is also a no go. Allocating his friend with such hefty titles is utter insanity. Although that’s apparently his new wheelhouse. It’s like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. The world just keeps getting weirder and weirder, more of a wonderland than he ever thought possible.

And he knows there’s more. So much more. And not just in this shipyard. He still has had yet to ask what a quickening is. Much like the bond, he has a guess as to what it could be and um, _yeeeeah_. He’s not ready to touch that one. At all. Shane is obviously relieved too, that Ryan has had yet to question it.

When they got back to the car he tossed that ludicrous dildo in the backseat like it was nothing more than an empty cup from a fast food restaurant, something easily forgotten. But it’s not forgotten. How can it be? It’s hot neon pink. And veiny. And HUGE. Ryan didn’t even know they made dildos that huge.

How would someone even-? And nope, no – he’s vowing not to think about that right now as they enter the shipyard much as they did last time. Despite being the sight of his death, it doesn’t look all the different from how he remembers it. Big metal shipping containers, florescent lights above casting funny shadows.

The video Malthazor showed him hinted at a very different setting. He has yet to see colorful booths and strange bystanders and the video. Fuck. Shane has only been occasionally creepy since his demon reveal but that video? That’s when Ryan had seen him at his most inhuman. The sounds coming out of him and the look on his face, in his bottomless black eyes? Yikes.

But also…?

Okay; and Ryan knows how crazy this sounds. But it was actually…? Yeah, he refuses to think ‘attractive’ and he outright rejects ‘sexy’ (the first word that emblazoned itself in his brain when he watched the fight and no, no, no – why would he think that? That’s his friend! Fuck, no!) but it was, maybe, nice?

Yes, nice is a safe, normal word for it. It was nice that Shane had looked and been so fiercely protective. If, albeit, terrifying. Those wings flapping and those claws and fangs tearing and Jesus, _the blood_. The amount of blood had been unbelievable.

Ryan’s amazed Shane hadn’t been soaked in it, but maybe he had? He had mentioned that Clean Up thing. Clean Up, the crew responsible for Ryan’s memory wipe, and man, the level of fucked up things that Shane’s responsible for is numerous. Ryan should hate him. He’d have every right to hate him. He should tell him he never wants to see him again. He should tell him he’s taken advantage of their relationship. He should tell him all sorts of things.

But he knows he won’t. Because…well, because he cares about him. As a friend. A very close friend. His best friend and he doesn’t think he’s ever actually called him that, but that’s certainly what Shane is. Shane is the one he feels the most comfortable around, the one he easily confides in. True, he hadn’t told him about being bi right away, but he’d planned on it. But he had had to admit some trepidation. The idea of losing Shane’s friendship because of that seemed so very real, so very possible.

And while logically he knows that’s stupid, it’d been there regardless. A rabid paranoia wrapped in his normal anxiety. And so, when Shane revealed himself as a demon and revealed all the messed up shit he’d done – what was Ryan supposed to do? He felt it had been almost a reverse of his own worries. This reveal of all these vulnerabilities and things that could be viewed with censure and – well, he knows how he’d want to be treated, so he returned the favor.

How could he not?

Shane is one of the most important people in his life.

Shane is…

Ryan just shakes his head to himself because his thoughts are getting too deep and too powerful and he longs for distraction, “You said you brought me here for some real evidence. Does that mean the thing with the dock workers actually happened?”

“It did,” Shane murmurs, his flashlight zipping about, eyes darting here and there looking for something Ryan probably can’t even begin to imagine, “Unlike most of the places we’ve visited, this one actually has a basis in fact. And by fact, I mean supernatural events did occur.”

“So not the mob?”

“Nope! Demon bear,” Shane returns gleefully and Ryan glares at him, “Shane.”

“What?”

“Apparently I’m getting better at seeing through your bullshit.”

“Ryan, you’ve always been good at seeing through my bullshit,” Shane assures him, “Not knowing about stuff I withheld from you doesn’t mean you’re not a good detective. Remember? It just means I’m an asshat.”

“Funny to hear you freely admit that.”

“I’ll admit it when it’s true. Again, I don’t feel good about keeping things from you.”

“And are you done doing that?”

Shane just shrugs and Ryan lets out an exasperated breath but Shane waves one hand as if he can physically smooth things over, “Look, we all have some things we keep to ourselves. But I do promise I won’t keep anything from you, from now on, that involves you specifically. Okay? If you somehow end up, I don’t know, pregnant with my child or-?”

“HOLY FUCK!” Ryan can feel his eyes trying to bulge out of his skull, “That’s-that’s not-?!”

Shane busts out laughing, “N-no. No, Ryan. It’s not possible.”

“You swear!”

“I-I- _ah ha_! I swear,” Shane’s tall frame is bent under the weight of his mirth and Ryan can’t help but grin, “I don’t know. I feel like anything’s possible now. You better not like, implant eggs in me.”

“Ryan, this isn’t ‘Aliens’. It was just the first example that came to mind.”

“Knocking me up was the first thing that came to mind? Really?”

“Well, I mean, technically we already _have_ a child in Ryan Shane Junior.”

Ryan shakes his head, “You know; we’re actually terrible parents. We never bring him anywhere. We just leave him alone at your place for hours on end.”

“Eh, he’s got movies to watch. Hot dogs to eat.”

“Please tell me you have more than just hot dogs in your fridge.”

Again a shrug and Ryan quietly resolves to check next time he’s at Shane’s. Which will probably be tonight. His friend has been close since the near miss with the Void. Which is funny in a way. Ryan’s been around Shane almost constantly the past few days and it’s been perfectly easy.

Normally at this point in a relationship, Ryan starts chafing a bit, wanting time to himself and away from the other person. But it’s like he can be around Shane for hours on end and not be bored or annoyed. Okay, maybe _annoyed_ – but more in an enjoyable way, if that makes sense. An annoyed he can certainly live with and that’s right, he just used the term ‘relationship’ but it’s not – it’s not a _romantic_ one. Even if that’s the sort of comparison model he’s using and Jesus, time to start talking again.

“Since we’ve ruled out demon bear, what really happened?”

“One of the dock workers had the sight. He could see the Lot, there was some hungry beasty there that night…” Shane makes this hand gesture that’s recognized as an unspoken, ‘there you go’, but Ryan’s not done, “Wait, isn’t that what happened with me? Does this happen often?”

“Eh, not really. The vast majority of us like our privacy. It’s why we have all these rules and regulations and services. We don’t want humans poking around. It’s why we set up…” he trails off and stops walking and Ryan does too. Ryan feels an inkling of fear at the quick stop and his own flashlight sort of bounces, “Wh-what?”

“It’s…not anything scary, Ryan. It’s,” Shane shoots him a sheepish look, “Look, I told you I’d tell you anything that involves you from now on, so…here it goes! A lot of the spots you and I have been to? Whaley House, Bobby MacKey’s? They’re, ah, not only _not_ haunted, but they’re sort of…places we set up? Like, the supernatural community _chose_ those sites and gave them history and little enchanted bits and – we made them _specifically_ for humans who want to experience the supernatural world without _actually_ experiencing it. They’re like…safe spots? Or maybe it’d be better to say it’s like a tourist attraction. Some thrills and chills, but no real danger.”

“Wow. Great. In other words, you’re saying I wasted my time at all those spots,” Ryan mood instantly turns sour, “Not only have I never gotten any real, indisputable evidence, but I’ve also been making myself into a laughingstock.”

“No, Ryan,” Shane looks both amused and chagrined, an interesting blend of feelings that could only play out on a face likes his, “You don’t understand. You’re not a laughingstock and, in a way; you _are_ providing people with proof. After all, we set those sites up and we’re the ones who supplanted them with extraordinary bits and hey, since we put them there, that’s real, isn’t it?”

Ryan twists on his feet as he mentally chews over that logic, “I don’t know. Still feels kinda cheap.”

“The Haunt Crew is responsible for that stuff and trust me, they’re pleased as punch that you admire their hard work. You think it’s easy for a coalition of ghosts, demons, and other creatures to work together to make those places possible? Besides, it’s because of them that you’re here in the first place.”

This trips him up, “What do you mean?”

“That, ah, Queen Mary thing? The toothpaste? Yeah, that was actually legit.”

“You-!” Ryan points an accusing finger at him and he’s gasping as laughter chokes him, “You son of a bitch, Shane! You’ve given me shit about that for years! And now, come to find out-!”

“Well, it _is_ one of the stupidest ways to make someone into a believer. All – ‘oho ho, I’m invisible and I’m gonna knocked around your toothpaste!’ Hell, the guy that did it didn’t even do a good job! Besides, from what I hear, he only did it because you were being such a little shit. Shouting all over the ship about the place being bullshit and all. Though, to be fair, it is one of the mains reasons I took you on as my assignment. You sounded like you’d be plucky.”

This adjective just busts the loudest laugh out of Ryan, “Plucky? What am I? Your ward?”

“I mean, out of the two of us, I _would_ be Batman...”

“Christ,” Ryan grumbles affectionately and shakes his head, “I really think it’s the other way around. I’m the one monitoring you.”

“For sanity?”

“Hell no, you lost that long ago,” he smiles and stops walking to really look at him, “So, you really chose me?”

Shane stops walking, his flashlight playing along Ryan’s feet, “Hmm?”

“You said you _chose_ to take me on as an assignment, but I thought you were assigned-?”

“Ah! Yeah, little bit of both. I was looking for a job, they offered me a couple, but I could tell they were really angling for me to take you on. Lots of ‘ghost hunters’ have supernatural monitors. Entities posing as humans in place to make sure they don’t step out of line or, like I told you, find anything damning. You, in particular, had a bit of flag on your profile, because some higher up oracle had a mystical vision about you,” Shane waves his fingers as if he’s casting a spell when he says ‘mystical vision’, “So basically it was all those things tied up that led me to you.”

“Wait, mystical vision? Like a prophecy?”

“Yeah, except prophecies are bullshit, Ryan. In all my years of existence only two prophecies have ever panned out. The one about the flood and the one about the live action ‘Transformers’ movie _not_ tanking, that’s it. The rest are total crap!”

Ryan’s not sure if _that’s_ true. After all, after everything he’s learned and seen lately, it seems ridiculous to discount anything, no matter how farfetched. He’s just about to ask if Shane knows what the prophecy is about when he sees the strangest thing. It’s like a glimmer in the air, similar to how sunlight looks when it reflects of a spray of water and Shane turns to him with a bit of a grin, “You sure you’re ready for this?”

“R-ready for what?”

His answer is a dry laugh and then Shane just – steps forward and it’s like watching a bubble break. A whole, lively landscape spreads out before Ryan and he feels that overwhelming dizziness. Shane must sense it, because he’s behind Ryan in a flash, clearly ready to catch him again, but Ryan’s not a _child_ , he’s not _feeble_. He’s not going to _faint_. He didn’t almost faint back at the hospital!

He’s just-!

He’s… _adjusting_.

Adjusting to…all of this.

The Lot is laid out before him and this is what he saw in the video Mal showed him. A wild, bustling bazaar. Stalls and booths and creatures beyond imagining mingling and talking and the hospital had a lot of this, but not the same energy. There it had been subdued, almost run of the mill, this? This is far beyond humdrum. It makes sense though, shopping malls are far livelier than hospitals no matter what world you live in.

Once assured that Ryan won’t faint this time, Shane comes up to stand by one side of him, “This is what I saw the first time we came here. You can see it now because of our bond. I just had to break the veil for you.”

“Break-?”

“You don’t have the sight. Very few do. Our bond makes it so your eyes have been opened, but you’re still new to this. The Lot is contained within an invisible veil and I had to step through it before you could see all this.”

“Huh,” Ryan offers inelegantly because…wow. Just. Wow.

A ghost walks (floats?) by, a selkie trailing alongside him as a few fairies buzz overhead, zooming past a very large, very imposing monster (no other word for it) who emits thunder as he walks towards some Cthulhu looking being who’s holding up weird bottles and making these wet sucking noises like he’s trying to sell them maybe, or-?

Ryan just blinks and Shane dips down close to him, his breath brushing along the full length of Ryan’s ear, “You okay?”

The breath makes Ryan shudder and he snaps back to himself, “Mm? What?”

Shane draws back, his hands descending into his pockets as he grins, “Boy, the doctor sure was right about the emotion exchange.”

The only thing Ryan can think to say is, “Yeah?”

“You’ve probably had yet to experience it, but this is my second time and man, the wonder radiating off of you right now and into me is just – it’s _great_ ,” Shane looks beyond pleased, “It’s like seeing this place for the first time. To me, this is about as average as a Target, but since you’ve never been here before…”

“T-target?” Ryan gawks, “ _This_ is like Target to you?”

A simple shrug, “Sure. Nothing exciting here,” he eyes Ryan up and down, “Until now.”

And Shane didn’t mean that in a flirtatious way. Ryan _knows_ he didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way. He meant it as in, this hasn’t been exciting until he brought Ryan here and got to see Ryan react to it. It’s not anything remotely like, it’s exciting because Ryan is here and he’s into Ryan and-!

Frustrated he focuses his mind towards the task at hand, “So, where are we going exactly?”

Shane just tips his head to one side and starts walking. Ryan dutifully follows behind him, doing his best to keep his cool but it’s – it’s sort of hard. He’s at the world’s coolest cosplay that is _not_ a cosplay. All the fantasy and science fiction around him is living and breathing and real and oh god, _this_ is strange.

He’s actually the exception here, isn’t he? Being human, being mortal – _he’s_ the oddity. Ryan realizes this is true more and more whenever he gets a wandering eye in his direction. It’s clear these guys don’t see his kind much. At least, not here. He gulps, a little nervous, but also nowhere near as afraid as he thinks he should be.

Maybe living in a constant state of fear isn’t such a bad thing. It certainly seems to have prepared him for this and it’s funny, there’s so many times they’ve been on location and he hasn’t liked the feeling of rooms and places, but here?

It feels…okay? At least not dark or threatening. It feels…sort of normal. And just what the hell does that say about him? This is the kind of world he always swore he’d never mess with and now he’s right smack dab in the middle of it and he feels right at home and alright, ‘right at home’ might be a bit too strong, but he certainly feels _fine_. Not threatened, if anything. So much so, he’s starting to wonder why Shane even bothered keeping this from him past the rules and his worries about Ryan taking his whole demon-ness negatively.

But then, the Void…well, _that_ had felt threatening. That had felt more like the things he’s experienced at locations and in his nightmares. Obviously there’s a dark side to this world, much like his own, and he’s just had yet to experience it. And yeah, he’d like to keep it that way, thanks.

As such, he keeps pace with Shane, who clearly has a destination in mind. They approach what appears to be a permanent structure. Unlike the pop up booths that seem to comprise the majority of the Lot, this stand is large and deep. Not quite a shed, but not quite a building, it has a variety of signs plastered all over it, none of which Ryan recognizes.

Shane walks up to the closed door and hits it with the back of his knuckles in a variety of rhythmic knocks. Eventually a very striking looking person emerges, “Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Shane, this is Ryan,” Shane gestures to Ryan who offers a shy wave, “We’re in need of a spirit guide.”

The being’s eyes are two different colors – one eye is bright violet, the other black, but then they blink and the eyes change, becoming white and green, “We are known as Wren. Would we fit your needs?”

Shane rubs at his chin, “I don’t know…”

Wren blinks again, now one eye is gold and the other is silver, “We are Jude. Can we help you with what you seek?”

Shane turns to him, “Ryan? What do you think?”

“I…?” Ryan just trails off, not sure how to respond. Shane shakes his head, “No, sorry. Anyone else?”

Another blink, one eye is red and the other blue, “Alys and we know exactly what you are looking for.”

“You do?” Shane asks with a smile and they nod, “We do. You seek a vessel.”

“Hey! We got a winner!” Shane claps and Alys dips their head, obviously happy to help, “You will find a vessel with Vassago. His booth is back towards the beginning of the Lot. You have been in his presence before Madej.”

“Have I?”

Alys nods, “As have you, bondmate of Madej. Be warned. He is fond of your face.”

Ryan frowns, “ _My_ face?”

Alys grins, “He calls you ‘pretty one’.”

The groan that leaves Shane is noteworthy, as is how much he tips his head back, “Fuuuuuuuck. Not _that_ guy! Alys, isn’t there anyone else who-?”

“No, I’m afraid not, Madej, last of your name.”

Now it’s Shane’s turn to frown, “I’m…not the last. There are plenty of other-?”

“Your legion will be brought to ruin. It is not something to be feared. They deserve their due. You, however, will not.”

“Alys…you’re losing me,” Shane says and Ryan feels a fissure of worry because Shane looks upset and despite recent turns of events, this is still rare for his normally nonchalant friend. Alys merely smiles, “Funny. Were it not so sad.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Prophecies, Madej. Just tonight you were telling your bondmate of your disbelief in them. Never mind the fact that it was _I_ who foresaw the very prophecy that’s led you here.”

Shane now looks completely shook, “You…”

“Rarely do I come through the spirit guide, but today was as inevitable as the sun rise. As is the rest,” Alys’s face drops, discolored eyes landing on Ryan as they intone, “I am sorry.”

“Wh-?” Ryan feels a lance of fear so strong his knees wobble, “Why are you sorry?”

“You are playing your part. I’m afraid it was always meant to be. I did not like the vision I see.”

“Okay, okay – cut it with-with the rhyming crap!” Shane tries to interrupt, but Alys’s eyes are still locked on Ryan’s and he can’t look away, “But all of this must come to pass. And in the end, you both break like glass.”

“Shane…”

“Alys, thanks, we’re leaving,” Shane grumbles and he turns on his heels, clearly more than happy to storm off. Alys’s eyes flick back from Jude’s to Wren’s and then stops, “Thank you for your patronage. Your payment is most welcome.”

“Pay-?” Ryan starts but Shane tosses two weird looking coins over one shoulder. Ryan watches in awe as Wren catches them and then returns back behind the door. He turns around to find Shane still walking away and walking away fast. He actually has to jog a little to catch up. Shane’s face is tight with annoyance and Ryan decides to see if he can take the edge off, “Those coins were neat.”

He doesn’t know why this is what he goes with, but Shane answers even if the words comes out strained, “Yeah. Spirit chips. A lot of us don’t run in human circles, we place value on different things. Spirit chips are constructed and filled with a buncha crap – magic, blood, emotions, vitality.”

“That’s…nifty,” Ryan manages and honestly, he’s getting a little breathless, because Shane’s legs are longer and he’s walking very fast. It’s as if he’s running from where Alys was, so Ryan finally digs his heels in, catching Shane’s elbow to halt him, “Hey, look, would you just-?”

“I don’t know what the prophecy is, alright!?” Shane snaps and Ryan’s head rears back as if he’s been struck, “I didn’t ask you-?”

“And even if I _did_ , it’s _not_ going to happen! Despite what I am and the world I live in, there’s a lot of stuff I _don’t_ believe in! Atlantis, true love, ghosts-”

“But you KNOW for a fact, ghosts are-!” Ryan starts but Shane is on a roll, clearly angry, “-but prophecies are at the fucking top! Fate is total horseshit and I’ll be damned if Alys is going to step into some spirit guide and tell me that I’m the last of my legion and that something bad is going to happen to you!”

“Whoa, whoa, hey, hey,” Ryan hushes and his hands rise up and he realizes, in that split second, that they were going for Shane’s face. That he was just seconds away from cupping Shane’s face in his hands to comfort him and wow, no, what the fuck?

He lowers his hands hastily and rocks back on his heels to put some space between them, “Look, Shane, I don’t know what Alys was going on about, but it’s okay. I mean Alys, who do they think they are? Dr. Seuss? With all that rhyming shit? I agree with you, alright? You don’t need to get all worked up.”

“I’m not worked up!” and the way he barks this shows how true _that_ is, but Ryan lets him have it, “Yes, you never get worked up. You’re the most laidback guy I know.  _I’m_ the one whose brain melts all the time. That means this is coming from me. The bond, remember? Emotional exchange…”

Shane takes in a shuddering breath and Ryan feels it and… _whoa_. Shane _wasn’t_ just talking some shit. Ryan _does_ feel his friend’s emotions. He can _feel_ Shane relax, can feel his heartbeat decelerating and Ryan’s lips twitch because it’s so _cool_. Feeling what someone else feels. Feeling what _Shane_ feels and Ryan almost touched his face.

Shit, shit, shit. Christ, what is happening to them? Qyrora said they couldn’t influence once another but this just-? It’s so goddamn trippy. He’s always been close with Shane, but this is a new level of close. It’s beyond friendship. It feels like it’s teetering into something…else. Something new. Something big.

Ryan swallows thickly and he hopes this emotional connection is one way right now, because he really doesn’t want Shane to feel what he’s feeling at the moment, “Um, how’s about we go see this Vassago? Get the vessel?”

Shane just nods and his pace is slower now, easier for Ryan to keep up with as they continue towards the front of the Lot.

 

+

 

Shane wonders when exactly he’ll stop being ticked off. He’s nowhere near as furious as he was, but he’s still pretty goddamn angry. He didn’t lie when he told Ryan he doesn’t know what the prophecy is. He doesn’t. When he first picked up the job for Ryan, the higher up who gave it to him mentioned it blithely, like it was no big deal and Shane got that, because prophecies are no big deal.

They’re not real. They’re not binding. And they sure as fuck don’t include him and that was _not_ mentioned when he took this gig. It was all glossed over. It was laid out to him like a want ad. Just:

_WANTED:_

_Monitor for one Ryan Bergara. Talked a lot of shit to Haunt Crew before believing, has enough visibility within the mortal community to be possible issue, was seen in a premonition by stupid ass oracle. Warning! IS a total goober (albeit in a cute way). All interested parties should contact your local supernatural administrative firm._

That simple. That plain. Nothing big or life changing. And damn, Ryan probably should have been angrier with Shane when he found out about Shane’s (kinda) duplicity, because having shit kept from you is beyond infuriating. Not that this was kept from him exactly, but knowing it now…

Or maybe it’s just because he’s been uneasy ever since the level change. And clearly with good reason. So much has come to the surface since this started and one of the worst has been reminders of his origins. His legion. Lord. He hasn’t thought about any of them in ages. They’re all technically his cabal now. Calling any of them a legion would be a grave error, considering they’re all fallen angels and thus all demons now.

Honestly, Shane can’t remember any of them clearly. Certainly not fondly. They were just lumped alongside him and given the same designation – Madej. It wasn’t even their angelic designation. That was something different and he’ll be damned if he ever breathes _that_ name again.

…although his human name _is_ a very close approximation. It wasn’t like he just picked ‘Shane’ out of a hat. Still, he doesn’t want to look too closely at his thinking behind that. He’s sure Qyrora would, but he wants her as a physician, not as a psychiatrist. He _hates_ psychiatrists. He hates anyone being in his head. So it’s funny that, in some respects, Ryan’s there. Feeling Shane’s emotions, feeding him his own. Bonding. Jesus. Talk about the ultimate mindfuck.

Speaking of, it’s beyond bizarre to come to this booth again. Shane hadn’t paid much attention to what was here last time. Honestly, he never thought he’d been facing the djinn again and he gets a rather smarmy smile for his trouble, “Ah, you.”

“Yes. Me.”

“It was quite the spectacle. Watching you rise. It’s been many moons since I’ve seen such a thing.”

“I’ll bet,” Shane snickers and he turns to Ryan, hoping his friend will be making a face at this guy’s word usage because ‘many moons?’ Who the hell talks like that? But he doesn’t get the chance because the djinn is up in Ryan’s space and fast, “And you, pretty one! Glad to see you’ve been welcomed into the fold. It gives me a chance to appreciate your beauty further.”

“Oh! Ah,” Ryan blushes and Shane’s really reaching the end of his rope with this crap. First Judy treats Ryan like he’s a house pet and now Vassago is blantly hitting on _his_ bondmate, “Hey!”

Vassago turns to him, one eyebrow raised, as if taunting him and something must flash across his face because the djinn draws back, “Of course, my lord. My apologies. You are above my station. It was meant merely in jest.”

“What?” Ryan asks and Vassago offers him a bow, “My courtly attempts, pretty one. It is my fatal flaw, my…attraction to ones with comely features such as your own. You are, however, bonded I see. Though that bond appears…slim.”

“It’s partial and none of your business,” Shane cuts in and he is not going to question at all this strong sense of possessiveness he’s feeling, “However, we _are_ here for what you sell. We were told you have vessels?”

“Indeed! Top quality,” Vassago waves to a table behind him, “Do any of these speak to you?”

Ryan and Shane look over the collection spread out before them and Ryan points to one, blanching, “Is that-?”

“You have excellent tastes! That volume is bound in human flesh, inked in human blood - a rarity, much sought after for capturing spirits.”

“It’s cheap,” Shane concludes and while Ryan gapes at that conclusion Shane just moves down the line, “That’s cheap, this is cheap – a music box? Really?”

Vassago just shrugs and Shane sighs at the next thing he sees, “Dolls? You sell _dolls_?”

“A traditional vessel! I sell these more than any other item!”

“Okay, so you sell joke vessels.”

“I beg your pardon?” Vassago sounds wildly affronted but Shane sighs, “Come on, man, you know these are toys. These are the kind of vessels we use to prank one another. You see your office buddy down at the post office – you trap him in a My Little Pony, toss him into a kid’s day care center, he gets knocked around for about an hour and then the enchantment breaks – no harm, no foul.”

Vassago looks troubled, “Are you saying you’re in the market for something binding?”

“Well, yeah,” Shane breathes out like that’s obvious and Vassago’s eyes widen, “Items of those nature…they’re highly regulated. This is not the human world with their weapons,” his eyes dart to Ryan, “No offense.”

Ryan just rubs one side of his nose, “None taken.”

“Right, but I’m a level four now. At least. That should allow me to purchase something better than this junk. If you need conformation from my physician and administration contact, I can give you those. But I need a strong vessel that can actually hold an entity for as long as possible.”

This gets him an assessing look, “And just what, exactly, are you trying to contain?”

“A Void.”

This gets a disbelieving, raspy laugh. When neither Shane nor Ryan join in, Vassago’s eyes widen, “You’re serious?”

“Afraid so.”

“But…Voids aren’t real.”

“Couple of days ago, he,” Shane points to Ryan, “didn’t think any of this was real,” he waves one finger around them to emphasis his point and his friend shoots him a glare, “I _did_ believe this stuff existed! Just…not like this! This isn’t what I pictured at all.”

“Let me guess – you imagined some cross between the Conjuring and Coco?”

Ryan contemplates this for a few moments, “I don’t know. A little? I mean, the demons parts were definitely more Exorcist and Evil Dead and I pictured ghosts more like the ones in Poltergeist. Hiding in televisions and opening vortexes.”

“Figures.”

“But, that said, I never ruled out something brighter like Coco.”

“Probably on the bottom of the imagine pile though. Don’t even know why I brought that one up.”

Vassago looks between them, “Are you two always like this?”

Shane and Ryan turn to him at the exact same time but Shane speaks first, “Like what?”

Vassago’s laugh is rusty, like he hardly ever emits the sound, “I was mistaken. Your bond is strong.”

Ignoring the no doubt blush he currently has, Shane mutters, “Do you have a vessel or not?”

“The information please,” Vassago holds out a hand and Shane offers a soft ‘yeah’ as he pulls out his cell and gives the djinn the contact information for both Malthazor and Qyrora. Once he has it, he draws in a deep breath, “I shall reach out to them. This shall take but a moment, should you two wish to browse for now.”

Vassago disappears behind a curtain in his booth as Shane and Ryan start picking through his various other offerings, Ryan looking more intrigued the longer he searches. Shane shoots him a glance now and then, smiling to himself because his friend looks so fascinated by the most ordinary of things. Or, better to say, ordinary by Shane’s standards.

After all, he’s long since used to Mo’o scales and ahuizotl fur. Nothing really grabs his interest, although he’ll probably pick up a couple jars of unstable molecular softener. No doubt every merchant here is selling this stuff. It’s a god send for creatures like him, ones whose features can potentially ruin clothing. He’s already lost his fair share of jeans and shirts and what not and the gel will save anything else from being ruined.

A couple of capfuls of the softener mixed in with his normal laundry detergent and bam! Clothing that has a much looser molecular structure, easily allowing his wings and tail to slip out without ripping or tearing anything. Nice. Ryan walks over with a large claw in hand, “Dude, what the fuck is this?”

Shane regards the jagged yellow claw as he rubs one hand along his jaw, “Don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

This gets an eye roll, “I don’t know _everything_ supernatural, Ryan. Do you know everything going on in the world?”

Ryan accepts that answer even as he still eyes the claw, “It looks like a bear’s!”

“You’re saying you believe in demon bears now?”

“No, because demon bears are shit,” Ryan points the claw at him, “What I _am_ saying, is that this looks like something a bear could have and, as you know, bears are the most deadly animal on the planet.”

“Everything you’ve seen lately and you’re _still_ clinging to that old chestnut?”

“Facts are facts, Shane.”

The next thing that leaves Shane is a collection of letters that aren’t even words, his disbelief making him momentarily incoherent, “You, Ryan Bergara, are trying to argue about facts while we stand in the booth of a djinn?”

“You’re the one who says everything can be explained by science eventually; even if it’s a science we have yet to understand, so yeah, I can definitively say in this booth owned by a djinn, that bears are-!”

“It’s not a _bear_ claw, Ryan! Bears aren’t paranormal and you should put that down. It looks sharp and expensive.”

Ryan looks at the claw, his head tilting to one side, “This is expensive?”

“I doubt it’s cheap! Put it back!” Shane makes sure to play up the overly paternal tone and Ryan chuckles, even as he goes to put the claw down, only to stop when Vassago appears, “It would be wise of you to take that with you, pretty one. My treat.”

Ryan’s still holding the claw and his eyes widened at Vassago’s tone. The djinn looks a little ruffled and Shane knows exactly why. They got the permission they needed.

It’s not an easy thing for a djinn to swallow. Being told to part with a lasting vessel, even if they’re making money off it. Because, while they are the obvious choice to craft and store such items, it’s uncomfortable for them. After all, so many of their kind are unfairly trapped within vessels. Shane’s glad Ryan’s had the foresight not to be so foolish as to mention ‘magic lamps’ or anything. Hell, the last thing he wants to do is offend this guy, even if he’s not a huge fan of him and his ‘pretty one’ jazz.

Vassago walks closer to Ryan, one long finger pointing out the very end of the claw, which is encased in a tiny plastic sheath, “Just be mindful of its sting. That’s a Pisadeira’s nail. The slightest scratch causes temporary paralysis. Five, ten minutes tops. But it may come in handy; a useful tool in your quest.”

“Take it we’re vouched for,” Shane crosses his arms, an ‘I told you so’ if there ever was one. Vassago doesn’t rise to the bait, instead drawing out a long, glass cylinder. Each end is capped in silver, intricate designs imprinted into it, symbols even Shane doesn’t recognize.

The djinn grips one end, twisting. The silver parts just so, hissing, and an eerie green mist seeps out, “Counter clockwise to open.”

He twists it again and the mist is quickly sucked back in, “Clockwise to close. You must place it as close to your target as possible.”

“How close we talking?”

“Best is under four feet.”

Ryan scoffs, clearly horrified, “That means it’ll practically be on top of us!”

Vassago just holds out the cylinder to Shane and the demon ignores how his hands tremble, “How much-?”

“Your Malthazor has already directed the funds,” Vassago says and at Shane’s surprise he adds, “Apparently a gesture of good faith.”

“That’s not necessary,” Shane mummers more to himself than anybody and shit. He gets Mal might feel bad about breaking the news on the bond. Or, it could even be because he knows the stunt Judy pulled. Maybe it’s both. But the way Vassago put it speaks to something more unnerving. That Malthazor thinks Shane really _is_ going to step up in regards to his level. That he’s going to _climb_.

And fuck that! No, no, no. Shane has no plans to acclimate more power, to challenge other demons or start his own cabal or anything else. He’s got a decent ego on him, but nothing shitty or overinflated, and he likes who and what he is, where he is. A lot has changed, yes. But for the most part his life is still on track. He’s not going to upend that.

But if he and Ryan _actually_ manage to capture a Void…

“Is there anything else you gentlemen require?”

Shane eyes the unstable molecular jar and you know what? The past couple days have been a total mess for him and he deserves something nice, so-? Eh, why the hell not?

“Well, now that you mention it…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a fraud, because on my tumblr I promised some sexiness and only have I not delievered that yet, but I also added some angsty-type crap. I swear on my life the next chapter will have it - I am not baiting or something stupid like that. But I figured a whole chapter of cute was better than a HUGE chapter that only had some at the end. Also, for the eagle-eyed, my suggestion about unstable molecules is based very much on the same invention from Fantastic Four comics.


	11. Chapter 11

Even after they get what they need, they don’t leave right away. Instead they decide to wander around the Lot. The night is young and Ryan hasn’t really had a chance to immerse himself in what this new world offers, or better to say, what he’s experienced so far hasn’t been anything fun. It’s been all doctor’s offices and bureaucracy and spooky messages. So Shane wants to give him something decent.

And, despite being the site of their own misfortune, the Lot does offer that. Paper lanterns are strung up high, glowing orange and yellow, along with bright indigo-beaded streamers that wave in the breeze. The air is filled with a unique mixture of sounds – hooves clacking on pavement, tentacles slithering, wings flapping and just plain old footsteps. The murmur of speaking voices is just as eclectic – humming, hissing, booming thumps and regular speech all float around them and then there are the smells and this is what eventually draws Ryan to a standstill.

Ryan looks at him and even without their emotional connection, Shane knows what he’s feeling and presses a hand to his own stomach, “Hungry, huh?”

“Yeah, do you smell that? It smells…awesome.”

Shane grins, “Yeah, that’s…come on, I’ll show you.”

He leads Ryan over to a stand that’s serving up a thick, golden syrup in fancy bowls. Naturally his face is inquisitive and Shane chuckles, “Just wait.”

“Honey? This stand serves honey?”

“Not exactly,” Shane promises and when they eventually reach the front of the line Shane hands over a couple of spirit chips, “Two, please.”

The woman serving the bowls _looks_ human but there’s a glow about her. She offers up two bowls and Shane gives his thanks before escorting Ryan away. They find a secluded spot and Shane hands Ryan his bowl, “Go ahead; take a bite.”

“Wh-what is it?”

“That’s for you to say,” Shane offers mysteriously and Ryan looks even more wary now. Amused, Shane pushes, “Come on. I double dog dare you.”

“What are you? Twelve?”

“Hmm, multiplied by about a billion,” Shane chuckles and Ryan offers a little smile, his plastic spoon swirling around in the bowl, clearly testing the consistency of what’s been offered to him. Finally he caves and takes a spoonful into his mouth. Once swallowed, he looks stunned and beyond pleased, “Oh my god…”

“So? What’s it taste like?’

“Tamales! It…it tastes like tamales!”

“Guess that’s what you’re in the mood for,” Shane takes a bite out of his own bowl, “Mmmm, breakfast.”

“Dude, what the fuck _is_ this?”

“Ambrosia,” Shane confirms after another big swallow, “Tastes like whatever you’re subconsciously hungry for.”

“Wow, fuck…this is,” Ryan takes another bite and his eyes widen, a pleased laugh leaving him, “Boysenberry! Jesus!”

“Changed your mind?” Shane teases and Ryan is ridiculously giggly as he keeps digging deeper. They take their time eating, savoring each bite. Once it’s all completely gone (they meticulously lick the bowls and spoons clean) they start wandering again. A popular stand is a menagerie comprised of unusual creatures and, as always, Shane has to talk himself out of buying a Cerberus puppy. Ryan is pretty much enamored with all the adorable offerings – kitsunes, Bast kittens, longmas, gye-lyongs, wind serpents and so on.

Once they force themselves past that without purchase they end up closer to the end of the Lot again, back near where the spirit guide is. Shane studiously avoids looking in that direction and they’re far from the crowds now, the booths, close to leaving really and just as Shane’s thinking their time here is drawing to a close, Ryan’s eyes go wide, “Whoa! Look at that!”

He points to a far dark corner and when Shane sees what he’s pointing at his internal thoughts curse a blue streak. It’s a shipping container. _The_ shipping container. The one Grasolib sent flying that had had Ryan inside of it. It’s tipped up at an awkward angle, the door hanging open to one side like a nasty maw and Shane can still remember finding Ryan inside and…

 “Oh. That. Yeah, thought they’d’ve gotten rid of that by now. If not the proprietors of the Lot then at least Clean Up. Maybe even regular human folks, but I guess it still falls within the purview of the veil.”

“What happened to it?” Ryan asks and he looks at Shane so innocently that Shane rubs at the back of his neck, feeling lousy, “Um. Well, it-? You…I take it you didn’t see it in that video Mal showed you?”

Ryan’s eyes narrow, face scrunched in that look he gets when he’s pensive but doesn’t really want to ask what’s going on because he’s worried he won’t like the answer. He won’t like the answer to this, that’s for sure. Shane sighs and waves to it with one hand, “Yeah, you were…sort of in there?”

The way Ryan’s eyes widen would be comical if it wasn’t so sad. He looks at the container then at Shane, then the container, then Shane again before he finally manages, “ _I_ was inside it?”

Shane nods, arms flapping uselessly at his sides, “That night. The one you saw when I, ah-?”

“I was inside _that_ thing?” Ryan points at the thing in question and Shane just shrugs, “Dude…it looks annihilated! It’s like a monstrous soda can that’s been crushed. How am I even standing here, breathing, if that was the thing I-?” the realization hits right in that split second and his tone hitches up several notches, “Oh _no_! No! No, no, no, no…”

“Ryan…”

“This is it, isn’t it? This is exactly where it happened!” Ryan sounds like he’s about to hyperventilate and Shane’s tempted to touch him, to rest a hand on his shoulder and you know what? Fuck it. If there’s any time to touch someone, it’s now. Shane puts a comforting hand on his shoulder as gently as possible, “Shh, look, you’re not dead, alright? You’re _alive_. And, even when it happened, you were alive. You didn’t die, okay?”

“But I _could_ have. I _would_ have, if you didn’t…”

“Yes,” Shane admits, because he’s done lying to Ryan. He told him he’d tell him the truth if it involved him and this is the truth. Ryan would have died if Shane hadn’t bonded him. And while the action resulted in a domino effect of unexpected proportions, Shane stands behind his decision. He wouldn’t change it. Ryan _had_ to live. There was no other choice.

This is confirmed as Ryan looks at him, dark eyes alight as he murmurs, “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” his voice comes out rawer than he’d like, but the memories of what happened rise to the surface. He’ll never forget it. Those few awful quiet moments in the container…Ryan broken at his feet and just…just being _alone_ , being without Ryan…

“No,” Ryan swallows thickly “I-I know. I’m just, I’m sayin’…”

“Yeah,” is the only response he can give and it’s like all the nice, warm moments from before are washed away, lost to the melancholy of past memories. Shane doesn’t want to wallow in it and he’s trying to think of how to change the subject when Ryan beats him to it, “How did you even get up there?”

Shane turns to him, confused, “Huh?”

“Up there,” Ryan points to the top of the container, “I mean, I know we did that rock climbing video, but that shit looks dangerous.”

“Ahhhh, uh,” Shane can’t manage words, wincing because the explanation is obvious. Ryan, however, has had yet to come to it and keeps talking, “There’s like jagged metal bits and shit everywhere and you’d shred yourself if you tried. I mean, if you started from there,” he points at a nearby, undestroyed container resting against the damaged one, “and maybe found something that could act like, I don’t know, a foothold, you might be able to swing up and…no, wait, that wouldn’t work, would it?”

Shane decides to let him go, just to see if he’ll get there on his own.

“I mean, your legs _are_ insane. They never end. They go on for _miles_ and ignore how suggestive that sounds, it’s just-? You’re like a fuckin’ _giraffe_ , so you might’ve been able to…” he walks closer to the container and he’s inspecting it like he can find some clue that will explain everything.

Ever the fledgling detective. Shane can’t help but grin as Ryan pokes at this and that, clearly annoyed by this particular unsolved case. Shane finally takes pity on him and clears his throat, “Ryan, you seem to be forgetting something.”

Ryan looks at him and Shane’s shoulders rise and fall as if to emphasis his words, “I’m more than I appear.”

The nonplussed expression lasts only one more second before Ryan gets all big eyed with realization, “Oh! Shit! You have _wings_!”

“I do,” Shane laughs and Ryan looks like he’s won a prize, “You flew up into it.”

“I did.”

“Dude, you can _fly_!” Ryan’s excitement is infectious, “Oh my god, how has this not been all we’ve been talking about since day one? Fuck the bond and the Void and all that other shit! You have _powers_.”

“It’s…it’s not really a _power_ …”

“Bullcrap! You can fly, Shane! You can go up in the air, break gravity and-and-!” Ryan walks over to him and begins circling him several times, so much so that _Shane_ feels dizzy, “Are they always hidden under your clothes?”

“Are what always hidden under my clothes?”

“You know what! Your _wings_ , man! If I had wings I’d never want them hidden and oh, god, it must suck if that’s the case. I can’t believe I never thought of it and you showed me them and I forgot all about-!” he’s practically vibrating now as he stands behind Shane, “Can I see ‘em?”

“Right now?”

“No, next week. Yes, yes, right now!”

Shane can’t see Ryan but he bets the guy is _bouncing_. His glee is unbelievable and oddly flattering. Still, “I don’t know. It means I’ll have to chuck this stuff.”

“Chuck-?”

“My clothes, Ryan.”

“You…you have to get naked in order to-?”

“No, you idiot,” Shane grumbles with affection, “You watched the video. Was I naked in that?”

“But you said-?”

“My clothes get ruined when they come out. It’s why I got that jar from Vassago. I’ve never needed it before, but that stuff’ll make it so I won’t destroy my clothes if my wings and tail come out. It changes the composition of…” he breaks off with an impatient breath, “Look, I’m not going to explain the science. The point is, if I bring them out now, it’s goodbye to this outfit.”

“Oh,” is Ryan’s answer and Shane has never heard so much disappointment in one word in his whole life. Sighing, he shakes his head to himself, “Alright, alright, just…”

He hears an overjoyed gasp and Shane honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Ryan’s restraining himself from clapping. Honestly, his friend’s enthusiasm sort of makes up for the loss to his wardrobe. Still, it’s a shame to lose another jean jacket and flannel. Not to mention the jeans, because when it comes to his wings, his tail always follows. Same for the horns. The eyes, claws, fangs, and tongue he can normally keep under wraps from the other three, but past that it’s a struggle to pick and choose.

Shane feels his wings push up and out, the sound of cloth shredding akin to scissors slicing through wrapping paper. He’s a little self-conscious about where Ryan is standing, how he’s seeing all this, but Ryan just pipes up with, “Shane, this is so cool! Have you ever seen your wings come out? It’s like – it’s like watching two needles poke out through your back and – _whoa_! _Shit_!”

The last is exclaimed as his wings unfurl themselves, stretching out and flapping once, that leathery sound ringing out as Ryan laughs with unrestrained delight, “Jesus! They’re so BIG!”

Shane waggles his eyebrows, “That’s what they all say.”

“Shut up, just-!” Ryan is still chuckling, “Christ, how do you keep all this cooped up _inside_ you?”

Shane doesn’t offer an explanation, just flaps again and Ryan walks around to face him, “Your wingspan has got to be crazy, I don’t think you’ve ever even-? I haven’t-? Can-?”

“Are you so psyched you can’t even finish a sentence?” Shane laughs and Ryan glares at him. Shane just grins and does what he knows Ryan wants. He extends his wings to their full length. Ryan looks bowled over, but not afraid and Shane feels the weirdest burst of pride. Ryan eases closer, more in Shane’s personal space than he ever usually dares to be, “What-what are they made of? Is…is that skin?”

He points to a thin, smooth expanse of the wing’s flesh and Shane nods, “Skin and bone.”

“Wh-why red?”

“Why is your hair black?”

“So…other demons?”

Shane nods, “Different colors. Yeah. Red _is_ the most common though. Long time ago, some of us were more…liberal with humans seeing this. Hence where the ideas for how we look started in the first place. Unfortunately it’s something of a joke now.”

Ryan’s levity suddenly drops, embarrassment taking its place, “Oh, fuck! Shane, I’m sorry if I offended you back when-!”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s not like it’s something we can advertise. Just gotta accept the stereotypes and move on.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t _have_ to. It’s…it’s unfair.”

“I see,” Shane beams, “So you’re pro-demon now?”

“What?! No! But,” Ryan shifts around where he stands, clearly uncomfortable by that suggestion, “I mean; I feel bad for _you_.”

“Why? Because I’m not a ‘scary’ demon? Way to be exclusionary.”

“Stop that! You know what I mean!”

“For the record, I _am_ scary. Evil too. Kind of hard to be a demon without both,” Shane’s tail flicks out now, the curved, spade-shaped tip pointing out like an accusatory finger and Ryan’s eyes zero in on it, “Did-did your tail just sass me?”

Shane flicks it again, one corner of his lips tipping up, “What do you think?”

“I think…fuck, I don’t know - what’s that like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Having a tail, genius!”

“Hard to describe. Honest. You’d have to have one to really get it.”

“But…is it-? Is it like a limb or-?”

Shane’s head dips from side to side as he considers that, “Sort of? I mean, it’s weird, because I have control over it, but I also don’t? Guess it’s more like lungs. You can _think_ about breathing, you can _control_ your breathing, but all of its mostly involuntary. My tail’s kinda like that.”

“That’s…” Ryan trails off, eyes still on the tail as it swish back around Shane, almost as if it has a life of its own. Like it can hear them and doesn’t enjoy being in the spotlight. As such, Ryan turns his attention back to Shane’s wings, “But your wings aren’t like that?”

“No, they really are like limbs.”

“Huh.”

This is the last thing Ryan says and, even though their connection is an emotional one, Shane could swear its psychic, Ryan’s thoughts so easily telecast to him; “You want to touch them, don’t you?”

The color that floods Ryan’s face is so visible that Shane bets it can be witnessed from space. He’s glowing as bright red as Shane’s wings, “You can, if you want.”

Once more Shane could swear he hears his friend’s thoughts and he loudly exhales, making sure to avert his eyes as he answers, “Ryan, it’s no big deal, alright? It’s not like you’re asking to touch my dick! It’s okay. First, because I’m allowing you to and second, while I know it’s a bit…strange for us to talk about, you…you _are_ my bondmate. At least right now, so…”

“Yeah,” Ryan also lets out a hefty breath but his comes out shakier, “Yeah.”

Ryan puts down the bag he’s been touting around with their purchases to walk behind Shane again and Shane tries not to tense. This is so unbelievably silly. So Ryan’s going to touch his wings. So what? But then, Ryan’s balked at them touching _hands_ before. And this is a lot more intimate than that. It’d be like if Ryan touched his face or ran his hands through his hair or-?

And then it happens. Ryan’s hand brushes down the back of his left wing and Shane can’t help it. His eyes slam shut and he _trembles_. Because it’s been ages since someone touched one of his wings and it feels…

 _Fuck me, it feels so good_ , his thoughts whisper as Ryan keeps stroking him. Ryan’s hand just moves up and down, up and down, lightly grazing over the thin red skin and firm bone and it’s in no way meant as a sexual touch, but Shane’s heart is racing; throat thick with emotion, more so when Ryan just unsteadily gasps, “ _Oh_.”

Everything is so quiet that their breathing is ridiculously audible. Shane’s wings flutter a little, the intensity of the situation getting to be too much. Ryan draws back his hand, nosily clearing his throat as he walks around to face Shane again, “Cool! Awesome! Thanks! Yeah, that was-!”

His words ring hollow and absurd between them and Shane knows he sounds much the same, “Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

They stand there, two awkward people, unsure of what to do or say when Ryan scratches at the back of his head, “Um, so this might be pushing it, but…if you can fly…”

Shane finally meets his eyes and yet again states exactly what Ryan wants aloud, “You want me to take you flying.”

It’s not a question because there’s no point in it being one. He knows what Ryan wants and Ryan looks embarrassed and this kind of embarrassment is a little easier to swallow than the one from earlier, “I mean, if-if it’s no trouble.”

“Well, I can, but you won’t like how we’d have to do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d have carry you bridal style.”

“What?” Ryan looks shocked by the idea, “No way! Can’t I just, like, piggyback or-?”

“Then how are my wings going to _move_ , Ryan?”

“I don’t know! But there’s gotta be another way…”

“I mean, I could hold you close, wrap my arms around you, but it’s not ideal,” Shane can practically hear Ryan’s internal freak out. He decides to go for broke, “Look, it’s not like I haven’t carried you that way before.”

“No, you haven’t!”

Shane points to the destroyed container, “I told you, you were inside that thing. How do you think I got you out?”

Ryan looks to where Shane points even as Shane coolly replies, “Hey, we don’t have to do this. It’s not like its easy flying with two.”

This gets an eye squint, “Are you saying I’m heavy?”

“With your stature? No, you’re as lightweight as you appear.”

“Funny.”

“I’m serious. Enhanced demon strength aside, you weigh about as much as a pile of dirty rags.”

“Dir-? I can’t even be _clean_ rags!” Ryan cries and Shane’s eyes twinkle, “Not with the way you’re treating me right now, no.”

Ryan doesn’t even get a chance to ask why, Shane annoyance allowing him to charge on with ease, “You’re making it out to be this big fucking deal if I carry you like that. You _always_ make shit like this out to be a big fucking deal, like touching me is the worst possible thing you could ever-”

Ryan’s objects immediately, words overlapping Shane’s “No! That’s-!”

“-do and like you have to slap some ‘no homo’ over every little thing we do together, never mind the fact _you’re_ the one who wanted to touch my wings and-”

“That’s-that’s not what I’m doing! I don’t do that, okay!? I’m not-not some ‘no homo’ douchebag!”

“Then stop acting like one and let me carry you!”

“Fine!” Ryan snaps, drawing the argument to a close as he charges right over into Shane’s space, clearly intent on getting into his arms, only to be drawn up short by the schematics of the action. Some of the irritation leaves as Shane mutters, “Here, just-!”

He bends down and scoops Ryan up, one arm under his knees, the other supporting his back and he knows for a fact Ryan’s face has returned to its earlier red hue.  Ryan’s arms are huddled up in front of him, expression sullen and Shane groans, “Wrap your arms around my neck.”

“I-I don’t think that’s necessa- _ah_!” the last comes out as a startled yelp as Shane just pushes upwards, wings boosting them off the ground. Ryan’s arms not only lock around Shane’s neck, but his face buries itself into the smooth crook there. Shane puffs out, a little from exertion and some from sheer amusement.

They rise up and up and Ryan’s grip is hard, eyes tightly closed. Shane snorts, “Open your eyes, you big wuss.”

Ryan’s lips compress into a hard line and Shane can tell he wants to shake his head. Shane angles himself a little closer, whispering, “You wanted this, remember? C’mon, take a peek.”

He can feel Ryan shiver and that’s – _yeah_ – that’s something. Feeling him so close like this and when Ryan’s eyes crack open just a sliver he realizes how close they are to one another. Maybe Ryan _was_ right to object to this so much. Because Shane can really see Ryan’s eyes and they’re so…dark. And bright. The moon overhead is full and it’s casting this glimmering blue light right off of them. Shit. He looks away, looks out at everything below them and Ryan does the same, turning just enough to see and when he speaks it’s just a breath, “Hoooo…”

“Yeah.”

“Shit…this is,” Ryan looks out over the Lot and suddenly Shane feels the biggest rush of exhilaration through their connection, “This is-! Oh my god! Shit, dude, this is freakin’ AWESOME!”

Ryan laughs and his gaze is whipping everywhere, over everything, and Shane’s chest feels full, tight and warm and ridiculous and the only thing he can do is smile broadly, “Take it you like it then?”

“Man, why would you ever drive or walk anywhere?!”

He has an easy answer for that, “Flying isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Keep in mind; my wings are in constant motion right now. That’s what’s keeping us up here. It’s like having legs on your back and running up into the air. It takes its toll after a while.”

Ryan turns to look at him, concern etched on his face, “Do you need to land?”

“Not yet,” Shane promises, “I mean, right now, we’re only floating. Might as well take you out for an actual test drive. Hang on.”

This said; Shane’s wings pump harder, the sound of them working picking up in volume as he starts to really soar. His navigation is less than smooth (he hardly ever flies – much less with a passenger) but he manages to push them past the Lot, behind the crushed container and a bit beyond. Ryan is totally enthralled and all the earlier bad blood between them washes away as they fly in companionable silence.

Much like when he runs, Shane goes until he feels a bit winded. He turns back to where they took off and slowly takes them back down. When his feet hit the ground he carefully lowers Ryan. Ryan wavers drunkenly, legs adjusting to being back on solid ground as one hand goes to his head, “Whoa.”

“Dizzy?”

The hand lowers and Ryan just looks at him in awe, “Some.”

“It happens,” Shane’s still smiling even as he pulls back in his wings, tail, and horns, “Thanks again for flying Shane-ways Air.”

“I can’t believe it…can’t believe I just _flew_.”

“Technically _I_ did the flying. I was Superman, you were Lois Lane.”

“Lo-?” this gets a chuckle, “I’m not Lois.”

“An intrepid reporter with a thirst for knowledge? Seems right to me.”

“You want intrepid reporter? Alright then, here it goes,” Ryan turns to him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, “What’s a quickening?”

If Shane was drinking right now, he’d do an actual spit take. As it is, unintelligible sounds leave him and Ryan gloats, “Yeah, things can’t get any more awkward between us. You just carried me in your arms like a baby, so – go on. Tell me. What is it?”

Shane runs a hand though his hair and avoids looking at Ryan and he knows exactly what this is. This is payback for what he said earlier. It’s clear he hurt Ryan’s feelings somewhat - tearing into him for not being comfortable enough in himself and in his relationship with Shane to do anything that could be taken the wrong way. This is him showing that Shane is just as bad. And it’s not that Shane is just as bad, because he isn’t, but this, well this…

“It’s obviously something sexual. I’ve worked that one out on my own, but – since you usually love torturing me and watching me squirm around this kind of thing – there must be something in particular you don’t want to tell me, so?” Ryan drags out the last word and Shane cringes, words coming out soft, “Yeah, Ry…you won’t like the answer, bud.”

“Why not? Because it’s embarrassing for _you_?”

“I mean, well,” Shane lets out a sigh, “Yeah. Yeah, it is. I can admit that. But it’ll also be…sort of weird between us if I tell you.”

“Just tell me. Go on. I’m ready for it.”

Bravely spoken words that Shane knows his friend can’t back up. Apparently their short flight has made him bolder. The cringing doesn’t leave as Shane confesses, “Fine. It’s…quickening is like being in heat.”

Ryan’s confidence disintegrates, “In heat? In-in heat as in-?”

“Dogs, cats, yeah – that whole thing. Demons, no matter their gender, experience it. Once when you’re young and later when you bond. Keep in mind – demons aren’t human. We’re much more…um, sexually driven.”

The number of times Ryan manages to blink in one row is astounding, “You…?”

“We pretty much invented orgies, man, are you really surprised?” he manages a weak laugh, “Think it’s sort of a punishment, really. Overcome with our dirty, dirty lusts or whatever. Definitely something angels would stick their noses up at. Nothing but sin.”

“But…wait…” Ryan seems stunned, his normally quick mind working at a slower tick, “Judy said…and we’re…”

Shane waits for it. He doesn’t have to wait long. When it comes, Ryan looks like something has physically hit him, “You had a quickening because of _me_?!”

No use in pointless artifice, “Because of our bond. Yes.”

The air between them is charged with…something. Shane doesn’t know what and the emotional connection between them offers nothing. And then it comes. A laugh. A strange, twisty laugh and then it’s followed by another and then another and Ryan’s practically keeling over he’s laughing so hard, “Sh-sh-Shane, ho- _oho_ - _hoh_ my god, you-you-you’re telling me-y-yo- _ahaha_!”

Shane can’t say exactly why this makes him so blindly angry. It just does. Ryan’s having the time of his life, laughing at him, and Shane finds himself livid as his friend catches his breath, wipes at his eyes and he’s still laughing as he talks, “S-so what? You-you were like-? You had a-a h-hard on for me? Like, you- you were stupidly horny for-?”

He can’t finish a sentence, can’t even seem to properly breathe between his laughs, “D-did you-? Fuck, you dirty old bastard, did you beat off to me?! That’s _hilarious_! Did you fantasize? Was I like, wearing a school girl outfit or – oh no, no, no, wait! Did you howl at the moon or-or want to h-hump my leg? Would I have had to bap you on the nose with a newspaper to stop-?! Oh shit, do you do that knotting thing I’ve read about on-?”

And that’s it. That’s the last straw. Shane’s jaw’s been working since Ryan started and suddenly he just snaps, “You want to hear what it was like? Fine, I’ll tell you! I _wanted_ you, Ryan. I wanted you _desperately_.”

The urgency in his words, the outright hunger, stops Ryan immediately. The humor drops right out of him and he stands very, very still. They’re not far away from one another, only a few feet, but the space begins to recede as Shane starts walking forward, _stalking_ forward, eyes intent on Ryan, “I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t _see_ straight. All I could think about was having you with me, under me.”

“I…ah…” Ryan manages weakly.

Shane isn’t done, his tone having dropped several octaves, deep and resonating as he moves ever closer, “It was the night you came to check on me. Remember? I was doing alright and then suddenly it washed over me. This hot, heavy weight of want. Of need. Need for _you_.”

“Shane…” this is a desperate whisper, like Ryan wants him to stop, but no, Shane is not going to stop, not this time, “I managed to let you go, but it’s not what I wanted. Do you know what I wanted?”

“N-no, Shane, this-this is…you-you don’t have-have to-?”

“Why?” Shane whispers and he’s very, very close now, “This is what you asked for, isn’t it? This is what I promised…to tell you everything that involves you.”

Ryan’s eyes have grown heavy lidded and Shane can see his throat work as he gulps. Shane has always been taller than Ryan, but he seems to lord over him now as he murmurs, “And this involves you, Ryan. You wanted to know, so I’ll tell you – I _did_ stroke myself thinking about you.”

The burst of color that blossoms on Ryan’s face is gorgeous. It makes Shane eager for more, “That’s right. I got my hands nice and wet and brought myself off with your name on my lips.”

“Shhh…” it’s like the beginning of his name, it’s like a hush, but it ends up being neither. Good.

“I was _screaming_ it, throat raw from it. My dick ached, balls full, and I kept seeing _you_ , Ryan. Kept seeing you begging me for more, for harder, for deeper…”

Words and sentences are impossible and Ryan just makes a choked off sound.

Shane’s amazed he’s still talking, but it’s like he’s in a trance now, his words growing huskier by the second, “It was so clear. In my mind. You, taking every single inch of me. Emptying myself inside you again and again. Taking you over and over...you, on your back, panting and sweating and breaking apart, being such a good boy as I’d drive you on, bed shaking, your legs around my waist and you’d whimper about how it’s too much, how it’s not enough…”

Shane angles his head, now nothing but a hairsbreadth away, his eyes on Ryan’s, “But I kept it to myself. After all, that’s your number one rule, right? You don’t fuck with demons.”

“Yes. No. I…I don’t…” Ryan’s pupils are blown and Shane knows what Ryan wants. Ryan _wants_ Shane to kiss him. Ryan wants Shane to take his mouth and dominate him and Shane is more than happy to oblige.

Their lips drift near one another, magnets being inexorably pulled closer, breath moist in its shared bubble as the already considerably small distance between them closes. Their lips are only centimeters apart when a whoosh of air to expels from Shane, vision blurring as he’s suddenly tugged violently backwards, tossed aside like a ragdoll.

 

+

 

From Ryan’s point of view, it’s like this.

It’s just…Shane.

All Shane.

Shane’s talking and he’s saying these things. These wonderfully dark, delicious, sexual things that make Ryan’s blood pressure rise, heart pumping double time and when Shane’s eyes meet his and he’s purring the ‘f’ in ‘fuck’ with demons, Ryan’s done. He’s gone. Lost in a delirious lustful haze, eyes locking on the taller man’s lips and those lips. He’s never really noticed them before. How pink, how soft.

And then it hits him hard, like a bullet between the eyes. He _wants_ Shane to kiss him. And Ryan? Ryan _wants_ to kiss Shane. Ryan wants…and Shane’s going to do it. _They’re_ going to do it. They’re breathless, heart stopping seconds away from kissing when Shane just flies backwards. Icy shock shoots through Ryan because what the fuck? Whatever grabs Shane is invisible and then he hears it. This awful, hideous growl.

Ryan looks up and the container…

The one he _died_ in. It’s erupting. Or that’s what it looks like. Inky shadows explode from the ragged top, smoke billowing out in maddening volume. But it doesn’t move like smoke should. Its sentient. It slips and spills over everything around it, consuming everything around it. Metal screeches, glass breaks and the smoke becomes thicker, more formed, long wriggling tendrils that tear everything around it asunder.

When it finally hits the pavement it cracks it like an eggshell, broken bits of asphalt flying and Shane’s to one side behind it, rubbing at his head and moaning. So, Ryan’s alone. Alone with whatever the fuck is across from him and no, he knows what it is.

The Void.

It collects itself, spinning and weaving, a miniature cyclone that takes a more definitive shape with each passing second. It stretches, it grows – six feet, seven feet, eight…

It looms up and up, becoming more and more slender, more human in shape. It has _hands_ , but they’re all wrong. Fingers long and twisted; bent backwards, curling over themselves and the eyes in its shapeless face are pinpricks of silver light. Horns dominate the top of its head and teeth…teeth flash in the darkness of it. Its mouth stretches unfathomably wide, a crocodile’s smile, and it lets out the most chilling sound.

Ryan’s brain, heart, and blood have all stopped. Frozen solid in him and he’s paralyzed with unadulterated fear. People say feeling energy is bullshit, but Ryan feels this. He feels it in his very bones. Everything within him is reacting to how unnatural the thing before him is. How evil. There is no other description. It’s overwhelmingly malevolent and it moves towards him, zig zagging and at some point Ryan fell.

He’s on his backside, scooting away from it, shaking his head to himself and it’s like what happened back in the parking lot but about a million times worse. This is no shadow, this is a monster. It reaches out for him and Ryan feels like the life is being strangled out of him, slow and tortuously, white spots dancing before his eyes when suddenly another sound rings out.

This one…recognizable.

Shane emerges and he looks exactly as he did in the video. All fangs and claws and jet black eyes. He’s almost as horrifying as the Void. Almost. But then he’s leaping at it, fighting the creature off and away from Ryan as best he can, tugging at what he can grasp and the Void lets out another ear splitting sound. It evidently did not anticipate on tangling with demon Shane and it turns on him, teeth snapping, deformed hands reaching for him.

But Shane’s smaller, quicker, he manages to avoid the Void’s attacks and it snaps something inside of Ryan. A fire, a bolt of bravery and fuck this thing, he will _not_ be terrorized! Ryan gets to his feet and looks around wildly. The bag! Where’s the bag with the vessel?

He finally spies it off to one side where he left it before their flight. He rushes to it even as a battle rages to one side of him, Shane tangling with the Void in rough, violent motions. As Ryan moves something sticky and wet hits him, splashes alongside his face and his body, a scream renting the air. A scream that sounds suspiciously like it came from Shane.

“Shit, _shit, shit_. Oh fuck, _fuck, fuck_ ,” Ryan gasps and his whole body aches and the side of him that’s wet is…he knows it’s blood. A lot of it. And if it’s Shane’s…

He digs thorough the bag, knocking crap everywhere until he finds the vessel and his hands are not shaking. They’re firm and growing firmer by the second, because he will not let this fucking thing hurt him or his friend any longer! He tugs out the vessel and turns to see the Void digging into Shane’s side, Shane’s shirt ripped to shreds, ribcage exposed, and Ryan prays to god he doesn’t see _bone_ beneath the blood as he stomps over and booms, “HEY!”

The Void stops. It releases an injured Shane and turns to Ryan. Blood is on its hands, its teeth, and it’s still smiling that fucking _smile_. Ryan is beyond incensed and he turns the top of the vessel counterclockwise, “GET IN HERE, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

The angry shout sounds like something Shane would say and the Void’s energy interacts with the vessel’s, intertwines with it. Green smoke wraps around it, tugs at it, and the Void wails. Ryan can feel the vessel shaking, it wrenches about in his grip violently, trying to bust free, but he just tightens his hold, the muscles in his arms flexing because he has to hold on. He has to hold on.

He’s drawing it in, sucking the Void into its permanent prison, but the Void fights like a wild animal. Its roars deafening as it’s being sucked in, drawn in more and more. Ryan’s feeling good, sure, confident. He’s doing it! They’re winning this! They’re-!

The vessel shatters. It explodes and Ryan falls back with a shocked curse as glass sprays everywhere. The Void lets out another terrible sound and vanishes. It zooms off into the night, disappearing up into the sky.

“NO! GODDAMN IT!” Ryan bellows and he grips at his hair, feeling like his mind is melting. It’s _gone_. The Void is gone. It’s escaped. And the vessel is broken. He looks at his hands and there are pinpricks where the glass broke, tiny sparkling shards and his fucking whole body aches and-!

“SHANE!” Ryan screams it as he dashes over to the heap that is his bonded. Shane lies in a bloody heap, but he’s breathing. His wings and tail are both shuddering, his eyes black, glassy pools, skin pale as he murmurs, “S’alright, I’m…”

“Shane, Shane, hey, hey,” Ryan blubbers stupidly and falls near him and he reaches out to touch him, but stops, not wanting to possibly make things worse. Ryan’s nerves are rattling at an all-time high. Shane draws in a ragged breath and tries to sit up. His face twitches under the pain of that action and Ryan’s voice is quivering, “No, _no_ , don’t _don’t_!”

“Ry’n’s…’s’…fine…” Shane manages weakly, ‘Jus’…jus’ need a…sec…”

Ryan’s face is wet. From blood, sweat, tears – maybe all three – he doesn’t know anymore. He’s by his friend’s side and he feels hysterical. Shane, despite his obvious pain, is more sanguine, “Pretty…brave b’ck there…m’hero…”

“Don’t hey, _shh_ , r-rest…”

“I am,” Shane grumbles like Ryan’s nagging. Ryan lets out a watery laugh, because he doesn’t know what the fuck else to do. Shane draws in ragged breath after ragged breath and Ryan watches with wide eyes as his friend…heals. Very clear punctures on his neck and face draw to a close, skin becoming unbroken and smoother with time.

Ryan watches and as he realizes his friend is going to be okay, his whole body deflates, fear slowly pooling away only to be replaced with pure unhappiness, “The vessel…it didn’t work.”

Shane closes his eyes and breathes in and out loudly through his nose. He looks just as upset as Ryan at this revelation, “Okay. Tha’s…s’okay. S’okay…got another idea.”

Ryan doesn’t know what it is and he doesn’t want to ask. All he wants, all he really wants, is for everything to go back to how it was. He wants to go back to when things were simple, to when things made sense, back to when things were right and good. When they were just the ghoul boys making their silly videos.

But he knows that’s impossible. This is where they are right now and he’ll just have to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shyan content went from 1 to 100 real quick. Fitting this is chapter 11 and I turn it up to 11 - hahaha...ignore my dumb ass joke, please.


	12. Chapter 12

Ryan drives them back to Shane’s place. Shane is in no condition to drive and while he jokes the whole way there, Ryan knows he’s seriously fucked up. His wounds heal incredibly fast, but there’s still so much blood and he keeps holding the side Ryan knows the Void dug into. Shane’s not squeamish – spiders on his face, eating bugs, needles? Bring it all on. Ryan? Yeah, he’s…he’s going to puke if Shane’s guts are hanging out there beneath his big, thick hand.

He certainly has it pressed on that spot hard enough to suggest this might be the case and when they reach his apartment complex, Ryan is honest to god afraid for him. He’s worried Shane is going to get out of the vehicle and just collapse. Spilling blood and exposing innards and-! But his imagination seems to be overreacting, because Shane just shrugs his lanky frame out of the vehicle like it’s no trouble at all.

No trouble, save for the fact he’s pale and sweaty and staggering. Ryan sees him struggle and he curses under his breath before slinging Shane’s free arm around his shoulder, “Here. Let me help you, you big lug.”

“This helpin’?” Shane slurs, “‘S like restin’ on…toadstool…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan grumbles, not in the mood to banter. Instead he helps direct Shane into the building and up the elevator and into his place. Once inside he escorts him to his couch and sets him there. Shane groans the moment his ass hits the cushions and Ryan turns away, busying himself with clicking on all the lights and locking the door, checking the windows, because he can definitely go without a round two.

Although he’s pretty sure the Void is gone. At least for now. The vessel might not have worked, but their resistance was clearly not something it anticipated. Like he’d just lie down and let it take him. Fuck that thing. Once reassured everything is safe and in order, he goes back to Shane, who’s regaining at least a little color. He still has that hand over what is no doubt the worst of his injuries and Ryan finds himself feasting on his bottom lip as he looks at it, “Um, are you-? Do-do we need to go to the hospital?”

Shane’s glazed eyes just sort of glint in his direction, his neck cushioned by the back of the couch so much that his head lolls. The sight causes another shaft of worry, “I mean, the real one or the-the-?”

“You sayin’ one I took you to ‘s fake?” Shane chuckles, “Don’t think Gladys an’ Qyrora’d ‘ppreciate that…”

“Dude, whatever! You’re freaking me the fuck out! Are you-you-?”

This gets a very clear eye roll, “Ain’t dyin’, Ryan. Funny…never thought I’d say it, but…mean, ‘s good thing I’m _not_ a level one anymore or I’d prob’ly be.”

Ryan digests that, the idea of Shane dying from this and ignores how much his heart just…trips. It starts and stops and he feels icy, so much so that he rubs at his arms, “Leveling, huh? What, you demons all trapped in some endless video game?”

“Yeah, but m’ princess ‘s always in another castle,” Shane huffs and his eyes slide closed.

“Alright,” Ryan smirks at the Mario reference, but isn’t swayed from his curiosity, “Seriously though, levels?”

Shane starts to shrug but stops, like the attempt at the action hurt him. When he speaks his voice is a little thin, “Like Mal said – jus’ a word for power levels. One’s a bottom feeder. Not much power there. Higher you go; more nifty stuff. Telekinesis, mind control – all stuff, by the way, I can’t do, ‘fore you ask.”

“How high up can you go?”

Shane’s breathes in deep and his eyelids flicker and Ryan thinks maybe he shouldn’t ask questions. Maybe he should just let his friend rest, but after everything that happened, he finds his voice (his very _living_ presence) soothing. Shane doesn’t disappoint, “After seven…start gettin’ fancy titles ‘steada numbers. Dukes, princes, commanders – shit like that.”

Ryan offers an inelegant ‘huh’ even as Shane mumbles, “One nice thing c’n say ‘bout the whole levelin’ business…my healing’s pumped up.”

“Oh? Then why do you still look like shit?” Ryan is being sincere, but Shane just lets out a wheeze and somehow the tight cord that’s been winding up inside Ryan since this shitshow started begins to unspool.

Shane’s eyes remain closed, head knocked back as he murmurs, “Superficial stuff. That healed first.”

“I saw. Not gonna lie, it was pretty dope.”

“Psh, _dope_ ,” Shane laughs again, eyelids flickering, “But other…injuries…they’re healin’, just takin’ longer.”

Ryan eyes the hand plastered over the bloody spot, “Can’t believe you’re so chill about this. Coulda sworn I remember you crying over a papercut once.”

“Sayin’ I’m a wimp?”

“Yup.”

Shane breathes in, smiles, “Can be. No foolin’…but, y’know, you go down to the Pit…get worse, give worse…”

This causes a tremor to weave through Ryan’s next words, “You’ve…been to Hell?”

“Well, I _do_ live in Los Angeles.”

“ _Shane_.”

“Yes, Ryan,” is the weary gasp he gets, “I’ve been to Hell.”

“Is it-? Um…what’s it like?”

“It’s just like you’d think,” Shane breathes out and he’s sounding better, less slurred, even despite the dark subject matter, “Some parts are hot. Some are cold. Lotta abject misery. But it’s different for everybody. It’s all about perspective.”

“But…for you…”

“For me?” Shane snorts, “Ryan, I told you, I’m a demon. For me, it’s like going home.”

Ryan doesn’t know why this upsets him so much. Tonight more than any other, he knows the truth about Shane’s demonic nature. But there’s something about him and all the other demons he’s met where they just – they don’t seem so wicked. They don’t seem like they deserve such a dreadful place. The Void? Now that fucking thing deserves it. But the rest?

He can’t imagine someone like Judy in such a place. Or even Malthazor. And certainly not Shane and something must show on his face, because Shane’s eyes are open now, voice soft, “Hell was a bitch in the beginning. I _know_ that. But my memories of it are fuzzy. Keep in mind, they’re my very first memories and I’ve lived a long fucking time.”

He sounds so ancient when he says it, suddenly he even _looks_ ancient. All of his features sharp and angular. Unnatural. Ryan’s entranced.

“I know there was pain. This burning and tearing,” he twitches, rubs his back up hard against the couch cushions for some reason, “Think there was some disemboweling…not too dissimilar to…”

His hand presses on his wound more and Ryan paces a bit where he stands, feeling like he should do _something,_ but not sure what the fuck _to_ do, “A-are you sure you don’t-?”

“It’s all back in.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better!” Ryan snaps and Shane just raises his free hand, waves at him as if to calm him, “Ryan, it’s-it’s all good. Just relax.”

“‘Relax’?” Ryan repeats with a bitter sniff, “Yeah, like I can do that.”

“Grouchy.”

“Yeah, Shane! I am!” Ryan is suddenly fed up and he knows he shouldn’t take it out on his friend, but he’s the closest target, “The vessel broke! That-that thing is still out there! And you’re bleeding out on your fucking couch! How do you expect me to feel?!”

“Not bleeding out,” Shane argues, “Told you. It’s healing up. Wanna see?”

He starts to lift his hand and for the sake of not wanting to lose his lunch, Ryan swiftly turns away, “No, thank you!”

He knows he sounds petulant, but he’s just so over everything. Since the moment this all started, it’s been nothing but terror and violence and earth shattering secrets. And Ryan’s just so tired of it.

 _Well_ , his thoughts whisper, _it hasn’t ALL been that_. And this immediately takes his mind back to the flight and Shane’s words after and _Shane’s mouth near his. Warm pink lips, heavy lidded brown eyes_. Yeah. That’s right. That… _that_ happened. Or almost happened. Suddenly Ryan’s flushed and whether or not Shane sees is debatable, as he mumbles, “You look like a wreck, buddy. Why don’t you use my shower, huh? Betcha feel better after that. You can burrow some of my clothes. Mean…you might swim in ‘em. Your body’s awful wee, but…”

“Fuck you,” Ryan’s reply is instant but without sting, “Sounds good though.”

“I know. I always have good ideas.”

Ryan just flips him off with a laugh before walking off to follow his suggestion. And while he’ll never say it to him (because the gloating would be monumental) Shane’s not wrong. The shower is great. Hot water washes away a lot of the night – quite literally in point of fact. Ryan sees a lot of dirt and crimson go down the drain and yeah, he knows for a fact the crimson is from blood.

He checks the palms of his hands and, despite, the glass from the vessel shattering, they look unmarred. He runs his fingers over his palms. Does he heal like Shane now? Seems like he should have _some_ marks. But there’s nothing. Not one scratch. Unlike Shane and fuck, how much of this blood is from his friend? Ryan can distinctly remember the spray when the Void dug into Shane’s scrawny side and he’s pretty damn sure the beast tossed Shane’s blood on him on fucking purpose. Goddamn savage.

But Shane’s alive and he’s healing and it’s fine. Ryan’s constant mantra of late – _it’s fine_. It certainly has supplanted his old adage of ‘do not be afraid’. Probably because he _is_ afraid. Afraid of so many things and no, he doesn’t want to think of that right now. Instead he focuses on the warm, comforting spray hitting him, washing it all away. Each droplet of water rinsing him raises his mood tenfold. So much so that by the end he’s feeling a little giddy.

Certainly silly as he uses Shane’s shampoo and conditioner and thinks about how weird it’ll be smelling like his buddy now. Not that Shane has a distinctive scent. Ryan’s never understood people who say things like that. Or novels that do. He’s never _smelled_ someone. Past people who don’t bathe and people who wear far too much cologne or perfume, he’s pretty sure no one has an aroma all their own.

And, apparently, if Shane did, it would be very plain, boring stuff. His toiletries are cheap, with nothing more than a light fragrance to them. Ryan’s surprised he doesn’t have anything more fancy with that mop of his. Not to discount his own hair, but Shane’s got that whole thick floofy thing going on. Ryan can’t help but think he fiddles with it a lot, runs his hands through it – probably when he’s in here, showering and maybe when he, or…when someone…

_You want to hear what it was like? Fine, I’ll tell you! I wanted you, Ryan. I wanted you desperately._

The memory of the words rings through his thoughts clear as crystal. Ryan freezes up, it’s like he’s hearing them all over again.

_I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t see straight. All I could think about was having you with me, under me._

Ryan licks his lips, runs his fingers along the cool, wet tile of the shower.

_I did stroke myself thinking about you. That’s right. I got my hands nice and wet and brought myself off with your name on my lips._

His hands were wet…did he-? Did Shane do it here? Did he climb into his shower and-and touch himself? Ryan’s fingers slip further down the tiles and it’s warmer now. Warm as the water rolling down his spine. He can hear the echo of the water falling, falling like rain and the sound carries well.

_I was screaming it, throat raw from it._

A whimper escapes unbidden. Just the idea of…of Shane under this very same shower head, hand wrapped around his length and stroking…did he do it slowly? Quickly? Did he chew the inside of one cheek to try and keep the sounds in? Or was he openly vocal? Did he just moan his pleasure, endless vowels spelling out his gratification and Ryan’s _name_. He said he’d said Ryan’s _name_ – how often did he say it? He said he’d screamed it, oh god…

Ryan startles when he realizes one of his hands has mirrored his imagination. It’s wrapped around his dick and, fuck, _oh fuck_ , he pumped himself. It was just once. Just one sweet pull, but he-! Shit! He drops his growing erection and rests his forehead on the tile, groaning because, no, no – he’s not doing this. He’s not beating off in Shane’s shower _to_ Shane. That’s just-! It’s not something he’s going to do!

It’s beyond inappropriate. And bizarre. And it’s – god, why isn’t it something that’s turning him off? If anything, his dick is growing _harder_. It’s bobbing in front of him, throbbing with that sense of urgency that pleads for more attention. Fuck, how long would it take? Not long, just a few thrusts into the slick cradle of his hand and…

“Nope,” he mutters under his breath and sticks his whole face under the water, nearly drowning himself. He reaches out and fiddles with the knob, turns it down. Turns it _cold_. Ice rains down on him, brings him back to his senses. His arousal wilts and he feels his senses return. But still. What was that? He was more than a little tempted to jerk off and while he’s never fooled himself about finding Shane attractive, it’s never been _this_. It’s never been some unquenchable thing. It’s never been all consuming.

Maybe it’s the bond? Maybe this is from that or from Shane and, shit, if Shane feels this way…

But Ryan knows it can’t be either of those things. The bond isn’t manipulative (at least according to the physician) and the emotional connection – not only is it tenuous at best, but Shane’s still recovering from his wounds. It’s highly unlikely he’s feeling randy at the moment. Which means this is all Ryan. And if it’s all Ryan, what does that mean?

Fuck. He _knows_ what it means.

The better question is, what’s he going to do about it?

 

+

 

Shane gingerly pries each finger away from the spot he’s been holding and makes himself look. The wound is closed. He falls back in relief, the hand that was once pressed to his side rubs against his forehead because _shit_. That had been close. _Too_ close. Far more close than he’ll ever tell Ryan _ever_. Saying it was like being disemboweled was an understatement. The Void had been trying with all its might to smite him.

It’d been reaching deep inside to try and reach his core essence and if it had done that? Shane would have melted to nothing, his energy transferred. How would Ryan have taken that? Seeing his friend just snuff out like a candle flame? Not well, that’s for goddamn sure. When human’s die, they at least leave a _body_ to mourn. Shane would leave nothing when he eventually bit the big one. Nothing but memories. Weird, weird, funky memories.

But the wound is closed now. There’s a strange, large scar but that’ll fade too, his new ability to heal on point. Now he can kind of see why so many demons climb the power ladder. Nifty gifts like this certainly have their perks. In reflection, it makes his defeat of two level fives even more impressive. Although, to be fair, being feral tends to make one vulnerable. It’s not like you’re in complete control of your faculties.

All you’re thinking about is your next hit of soul, your next chance to torture and hurt and oh yeah, he mentioned Hell. Home sweet home. Dante had had the right of it. Sort of. About the circles, although Shane doesn’t think of them as circles so much as destinations. It’s like comparing the suburbs to the big city.

The suburbs of Hell have bad souls, but their tortures are more amusing than anything. Souls forced to sit in traffic for eternity, listening to endless baby squeals, or trying to go to the restroom but none of the stalls have toilet paper. Stupid, annoying crap like that. Punishments that fit their lives of being general assholes, but not being monsters. Monsters are saved for the cities.

The big cities of Hell are full of the more classic tortures. Being drawn and quartered, nails through your skin, your whole body covered in tiny papercuts and rolled through endless fields of salt – that sort of thing. And yeah, that last one was actually his invention. Ryan wasn’t wrong about how much he doesn’t like papercuts. He’d actually suggested it while working down in the Pit in the suburbs.

It was deemed too harsh for those souls, but perfect for the eviler souls. It was actually what got him his first pass out of Hell. God…what year was that? 720 AD? 1603? He knows they didn’t even have a word for ‘papercut’ at the time. Regardless, years and centuries and that stuff aren’t his forte. Time is a total blur if you let it be. Especially when you’ve been around since damn near the beginning.

And the beginning…

Shane groans. The vessel didn’t work. Mal wasted his money on that one. So, that leaves only one other option. One other option that Shane really, really doesn’t want to consider. Angels. Yikes. The last thing he wants to do is try to approach one of those pricks, but hey, they are the last thing, aren’t they? He’ll have to give Malthazor a call, see if there’s a nearby embassy.

 _Embassy_.

Fuck, they’re so stupidly pretentious. It’ll just be another plain, nondescript building like the rest of the supernatural community uses. Or, well, not exactly. It’ll be extra douchey inside and out, no doubt about that. Because angels are sooooo great. So much so that he can’t help but drag out the ‘o’. Never mind the fact he _was_ one and that…fuck, _that_ …

He presses his fingers to his eyes until he sees spots. His memory is shit. But not _that_ shit. He can remember…

…Christ, how can he forget? Just two seconds back in that part of his past and he’s overcome with far too many emotions, each one more gut wrenching than the last. Gut wrenching. Ha. Just like what the Void tried to do. But was it worse than-? He rubs his back against the couch again and wonders if he’ll get out one singular thought any time soon. But it’s a tough thing to think about, so he’ll give himself a pass.

Blue gilded with gold. He stops pressing on his eyes and looks over at his butterfly case. He’ll never forget the first time he saw it. His heart literally stopped. Everything stopped. He never thought he’d see that kind of color on this plane. That soft, iridescent blue. Nothing else has ever come close. He bought it immediately, promised himself he’d make a collection, so that way this one could be buried among his other purchases.

Make it normal, make it seem like this one particular butterfly has no more value than any of the others. But it does. Everything in this apartment could be lost, but that butterfly? He’d fight to the end to keep it. Fight to keep _this_ set of wings. Even if they’re not feathered. Fuck.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself and looks away. He’s not going to get all mopey and morose. What’s done is done and _that_ was done long, long ago. His wings as they are now are more than perfectly acceptable. Ryan definitely seems to like them and they still have to unpack all of that. Ryan touching his wings, Ryan flying with him, he and Ryan almost, _almost_ kissing. Shane was going to kiss him. What the hell?

Here he’s been, this whole time, screaming to anyone who will listen that he and Ryan are just friends. That he doesn’t want them bonded, that he wants them to stay as they are and what does he go and almost do? But fuck, if he didn’t want it. He’d _wanted_ to kiss Ryan. If he’s truly honest with himself, he _still_ does.

What feels like years ago, although it’s actually only been _days_ , Malthazor accused him of having caught ‘the feelings’ for Ryan and he’d shot it down. Demons make everything so sexual, he’d said. It’s not sexual. They’re friends. Period. Now? Jesus, now he doesn’t know what the hell they are. Or better to say, where the hell they’re going.

 _Nowhere, we’re going nowhere_ , he assures himself as he gets to his feet and this time there’s no wavering. He’s strong, he’s good, he’s solid on his own two feet and his mind is settled. He and Ryan are going nowhere, because there’s nowhere to go. That moment was a fluke. A strange aberration. It was brought on by a bunch of different things. The stress of their situation, Ryan poking fun at Shane’s embarrassing quickening – stupid crap like that.

Shane and Ryan are a package deal, but a packaged _friend_ deal. Full stop. Shane will grin and bear it with going to see some angel fucks, get some grace, wipe out the Void, break the bond – game, set, match. Everything will go back to the way it was. Or as back as it can go. He’s not sure how psyched Ryan’ll be to keep making the supernatural part of Unsolved now that he knows for a fact this stuff exists.

Who knows? Maybe he’ll be _more_ into it now. Maybe he’ll have fun hinting and teasing about its existence for the unsuspecting audience for the foreseeable future. That would be nice. Yeah, real nice. Shane feels heartened by the idea. If it goes that route, maybe his job won’t even have to change. Maybe he can just stay with Ryan, keep masquerading as human. Boy, would that be the life! A life as close to the one he’s been having for the past few years!

It sounds perfect! Perfect and very reasonable. After all, if there’s one thing that sucks, it’s change. Shane doesn’t want change. No, thank you. Change can go fuck itself! Routine! That’s the ticket! That’s where it’s at! Pleased, Shane walks around some, happy to stretch his legs. Once Ryan’s done using the shower, he’ll probably clean up himself. He’s just as dirty and he strips off his jean jacket, one finger poking through one of the holes in the back and wiggling when Ryan appears.

Ryan’s hair is still damp and he’s wearing one of Shane’s white shirts and loose fitting grey sweats. Shane hasn’t worn an outfit like that in a long while. He wonders if Ryan dug through his closet specifically looking for clothes that wouldn’t swamp him. What he’s got on right now fits him well. It actually looks like something he could own and that makes Shane smirk as he unhooks his finger from his jacket and tosses it aside, “Well, look at you, Cinderella! Those glass slippers fit?”

“Yeah, surprised I could find human clothing in your giant’s wardrobe.”

“Ryan, giants aren’t real,” Shane chides like he’s a small child but instead of rising to the bait, Ryan walks closer to him and Shane? Shane does something really stupid. He swiftly darts back and sits back down on the couch. He kinda…flees. Which he hopes Ryan doesn’t notice, but he definitely noticed. Okay, why did he just fucking do that?

He and Ryan have been close to one another before and he’s never gone out of his way to make space between them. But it was like everything in his body screamed that he needed space between them. Like he had to draw back or he might-might do something even stupider. Like pull Ryan close. Like try to kiss him again. What the shit? Hadn’t Shane just made up his mind? What the fuck is _wrong_ with him?

But Ryan’s there in his clothes, still damp, and dark eyed and his dumb, handsome face is all…dumb and handsome. Shane sits on the couch and tries to play it casual, like he’s not on pins and needles and Ryan’s…looking at him. Watching him and does he know? Does he know all the ridiculous things Shane is thinking? Is their emotional connection online or whatever?

Why is Shane so anxious? Shane is never anxious! Never nervous! This has got to be Ryan, all Ryan, and talking! Talking will help, “Don’t know if you noticed, but the spot healed up.”

He lifts his shirt up to expose his pale side, skin unbroken, rib cage intact, and then he lowers it, wondering why he bothered, because there’s a big gaping hole in the material where the Void ripped into him, revealing the spot just as well, “Fucker owes me a new flannel.”

Ryan doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at him, so Shane barrels on, “So, since the vessel was a bust, there’s something else we can try. Not going to lie – it’s a longshot. Like; a real fucking longshot. Like; a probably-won’t-happen longshot. But sadly, it’s where we’re at.”

He gets a nod and Ryan has that ‘I’m-thinking-really-hard’ look on his face. This is never a good look. This usually means Shane is going to hear something crazy, just plain crazy, in a few minutes. It’s the look Ryan gets when he talks about his conspiracy theories, when he suggests it’s ghosts or aliens or anything other than a logical, scientific explanation. Normally Shane eats this look up, but right now it’s just adding to his growing nerves.

Which leads him back to his rambling, “I got work covered. In case you were wondering. I know we’ve had the last few days off, so no one raised an eyebrow, but we're supposed to be back in the office soon, so I spoke to Mal about it. Quick cell phone aside and he’s got us covered. I’ve actually used similar methods before to blow off work. One time, I took a week's vacation and no one noticed. You ever have a day where it feels like it’s dragging on forever? Yeah, that’s probably because a Chrono Displacer came in and fucked with time a bit. You can’t go back in time or into the future or anything like that, but Displacers can adjust…current…time…to…slow down.”

The last comes out in a measured pace as Ryan sits down next to him. Shane does his best to scooch just that bit away. Space. He still needs space. He laughs and it sounds skittish to his ears, “Or speed up! They can make time go faster and those son of bitches use that all the time to get through traffic quicker. Some of them personally work for the highest level demons. Those snooty ones I told you about with the goddamn titles and where do you get off taking a title? It’s like the witch master general! The first demon to decide he was a fucking prince outgha be-!”

Ryan turns to him, clears his throat, and says in this oh-so-laidback tone, “That was crazy.”

Shane stops, blinks, confused and lost. What Ryan said doesn’t fit in with his previous rambles at all. But then nothing does. It was the nervous rambles of a level four-ish demon. So what could Ryan be talking about? His mind supplies a quick answer and he immediately ignores it, going with something far more comfortable, “Yeah, definitely didn’t expect the Void to show up when it did.”

Ryan’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, “I-I wasn’t talking about the Void.”

 _Shit_. Shane just looks at him. He doesn’t know what to say. What to do. He’s…oh, wow. He’s _scared_. Shane didn’t even know he could be scared. He wonders if it shows. It must not. His expression must be pretty damn inscrutable, because Ryan lets out the most explosive breath and looks super annoyed as he locks eyes with Shane, “We almost kissed.”

The hot heartbeat of silence after is beyond cruel. For both of them. But Shane still doesn’t know what to do. How to answer.

Luckily, his mouth does, “That we did.”

“That’s-that’s all you have to say?!” Ryan returns as if it’s unbelievable to him that Shane would have the gall to answer in such a way. But really, Shane doesn’t know how else _to_ answer. He’s breaking down. His computer brain is glitching and it’s glitching _hard_.

It’s not like they could have avoided this forever. It’s not in Ryan’s nature to avoid it. But Shane just…he wasn’t expecting it. Not right now. He figured Ryan might bring it up in a couple of days. A causal, funny sort of ‘ha ha ha, remember when we almost did that’? sort of thing.

A write off.

He was expecting Ryan to write it off. Not confront it head on. Dammit, why does Ryan have to be brave when Shane doesn’t want him to be? He doesn’t want to have this conversation. He’d rather avoid it like he avoided most of the plagues he slept through, most of the human history he slept through. But, they’d have to face it sooner or later, right? Better to get it over with now. Shane draws in a hefty breath and steels himself for ‘the conversation’, “Ryan, it’s no big deal.”

“‘No big deal’! Do you not remember the shit you said to me?”

“I do,” Shane’s lips draw together like he’s sucked on something sour, “Look, it was…it was a funny moment.”

“‘A funny moment’!”

“Stop repeating everything I say!”

“I will when you stop saying things that are so mind blowingly frustrating! You dirty talked me, almost fucking planted one on me, and now you’re acting like nothing happened!”

“I’m not doing that,” Shane hisses, turning more on the couch to face him better, “I’m acknowledging it happened or, more accurately, _almost_ happened, and I’m telling you it was a fluke.”

“‘A fl’-!” Ryan’s seconds from repeating Shane again but at Shane’s look he stops himself this time, ending with a grunt on the last word before taking up with, “Why was it a fluke?”

“Oh, come on! How was it NOT a fluke! Did you WANT me to kiss you?”

“I-I think you know the answer to that question!” And fuck, Shane did _not_ expect Ryan to cop to that. His bottom lip is wiggling some, but he _still_ said it. _Ryan_ said it. He admitted it. Fuck, fuck, _FUCK_! Shane drags a hand through his hair, “Okay, maybe I do, but it’d’ve been a HUGE mistake.”

“Whoa! Hey! Wh-why would you-?”

“Because you’re _you_ , Ryan! Alright! I mean, Christ, you’re my friend and all, but you know how you get about physical contact with me. You don’t want to touch hands or let me carry you or-!”

“No, no, no!” Ryan interrupts angrily, “We didn’t get to hash this out earlier, but it’s like I told you – I am not a 'no homo' asshole! Okay?! First off, I’m bisexual as fuck, let’s get that out there! I might not announce it to everyone, but I have been with men just as much as women and if you really want to know the truth, my reluctance to touch you is because it IS you.”

Shane feels like Ryan’s just gut punched him, “B-Because it’s-?”

And that hurts. It hurts more than Shane thought possible and the wheeze he lets out is not at all from humor, “I…I see. B-Because I’m a demon? Or, wait, you-you didn’t know that before you, um-?”

“No, you idiot,” Ryan snaps, “It’s not because there’s something _wrong_ with you! It’s because there’s something _right_ with you!”

And Shane is confused again. Ryan avoids looking at him, arms crossing as he confesses, “I…when we first started working together, we were practically strangers. Then…we slowly became friends. I…I don’t _have_ a lot of friends. Or, more to say, friends that really, _really_ count. You started to count and I didn’t…I didn’t want things to change. I’m not _blind_ , Shane. You’re good looking. You _know_ you’re good looking! People on the internet won’t shut up about your heartthrob status-”

‘Heartthrob?’ Shane mouths and laughs but Ryan is still going, “-not that I want to add to that already overly inflated ego of yours. I mean if your big head gets any bigger it’ll crush the planet but you _know_. And I’m not immune and it’s worse for me, because I actually _know_ you. I know what a great guy…demon…demon guy you are. But I didn’t want to risk what we have as friends for-for something as frivolous as a one-time fuck no matter how fantastic that fuck might be and I was just worried if we touched we’d…it…”

He’s clearly running out of steam on that, but then he stuns Shane by turning to look at him and announcing, “But I think we should.”

“Should…what?” Shane draws out, not exactly sure which thing Ryan is referring to, because he just mentioned ‘fuck’ and well…

“Kiss,” Ryan says firmly and nods almost as if to himself more than anyone else, “I think we should kiss.”

“What? Like-like right now?”

“No, let’s set a date and time for next week. Yes, now!”

“Al…alright. No…no need to get so aggressive about it.”

“I’m not,” Ryan takes a breath and it’s clear he needs one, “I’m not being aggressive. I’m just-? This is nerve wracking.”

“Ryan, we don’t _have_ to-”

“No, I know,” Ryan breathes some more, lots of nice in’s and out’s, calming himself greatly before continuing, “I know. But I _do_ want to. I think we should. It’ll…it’ll be good for us.”

“‘It’ll be good for us’?” And now Shane’s the one repeating things Ryan says. Ryan nods, “Yeah. It’s obvious we both want to. And I think it’s good to get it out of the way. Stop having it hang over our heads, making it this big deal. We…we can pretend it’s like it’s for one of the videos, you know? Didn’t they even do one like that? A ‘best friend’s kiss one another’ thing?”

“Probably, I don’t know – Buzzfeed does a lot of videos,” Shane mutters and, unlike Ryan, he _doesn’t_ think this is a good idea. Because things have been changing like crazy and this will be the most ground breaking change of all. How can it not be? But then, maybe Ryan’s right. Maybe he should just approach this more offhandedly.

He’s never had trouble doing it before. He’s walked into ‘haunted’ locations and ‘portals to Hell’ like it’s nothing. This is no big deal. It shouldn’t _be_ a big deal. Just like Ryan said. They can pretend it’s for the job. Can pretend TJ is just…okay, no, he doesn’t want to pretend TJ is filming them. That’s just awkward. For them _and_ for TJ. _Definitely_ for TJ. Poor Teege and okay, his mind is just wandering off now, trying to escape the surreal reality of the situation.

Shane looks down at his bloody, dirty clothes and frowns, “Uh, are-are you sure you want to do it when I’m like this? Maybe-maybe I should shower first, then-?”

“No!” Ryan near shouts and it’s obvious he didn’t mean to be that loud, so his next words are much quieter, “No. I’ll…dude, I’ll lose my nerve. Let’s-let’s just do this. Get it over with.”

“Oh, so romantic,” Shane coos, making sure sarcasm drips from that. Ryan ignores it, fully facing him now, “Okay, okay, so, so…how-how’re we going to do this?”

“Uh, Ryan, if you don’t know how to kiss-“

“I know _how_ to kiss, you jackass! I mean, how-how do you want to-?”

“On three?” Shane suggests, because this is all so stupid. He’s been flip flopping on the issue, but now he’s just tired and done. Kiss and get it over with. Ryan’s on a roll.

Ryan actually agrees, “O-okay. But…like, right after we say three or-or during-?”

“After! Right after!” Shane growls and fuck, let this _end_!

“‘K...so…” Ryan sucks in another wavering breath, “One…”

“Two,” Shane supplies.

“Three,” they say it together and then just dart forward. It’s a quick peck. A loud ‘mwah’! of lips meeting. They kissed! It’s done! Shane draws back and Ryan’s blinking, eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a fidgety bird and then he laughs broadly, “Oh my god! That’s it! Phew! Thank fuck  _that’s_ over!”

“Yup!”

“I…I can’t believe I was so worried about that!” Ryan is cackling like a mad man, “That was so easy! Oh my god, I feel so stupid now!”

“Well, not saying anything but-”

“Shut up,” Ryan is too gleeful, “Damn, that was nothing! Right? I felt nothing!”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“We-we both got so worked up and that was,” Ryan gulps and his smile drops away, “No, wait. Argh! That-that _was_ nothing! Our lips barely touched. It was like – two seconds. It was like how kids kiss.”

Shane can’t help but agree, “Little kids.”

“Five year olds.”

Shane eyes him critically, “Should…should we do it again?”

Ryan rubs at the back of his neck, then shrugs, “Yeah, yeah. I-I was gonna say. One more time. Just once more and-and longer. It should be longer. Just-just to be sure.”

“Oh yeah, totally,” Shane concurs and Ryan nods, “Okay, so – on three again?”

“No, maybe just-?” he edges forward and Ryan puffs out a ‘yeah’ as their lips meet again. This time it’s a little longer. Shane can feel the shape of Ryan’s lips on his. The softness. They don’t open their mouths, but their lips glide against one another’s. Slowly. Gently. No sound, just brushing skin. Shane draws back and Ryan looks at him.

They don’t speak. They just breathe. They just breathe and look at one another. Ryan’s the first to speak, “N-nothing. Right?”

Shane just blinks owlishly before nodding. Ryan licks his lips. The lips Shane just kissed. Ryan licks them and bites them and they’re a bright, bright, shiny red. Pressure did that, pressure from his mouth and Shane’s throat makes this strange glugging sound, his breathing labored. Ryan tries to laugh, but it’s like the oxygen has evaporated, so he just gusts, “It was weird. It was totally weird. Like…like kissing a relative or…”

“Uh huh.”

“But,” Ryan chews on his lips again, chews on them while he outright _stares_ at Shane’s mouth, “Still it was-? I-I don’t-? One…one more?”

Shane’s eyelids grow heavy at those words as he dips his head in accord. Their lips meet a third time. Ryan’s head angles to the right some and this time their lips _move_. A push, a pull, just a careful parting of lips and Shane’s tongue sneaks out, silky tip trailing along the seam of Ryan’s lips and Ryan gasps. Shane can feel the air of it in his own mouth.

Ryan’s lips falls apart and Shane brushes his tongue along his teeth, teases deeper into the hot cavern of his mouth and Ryan moves bodily forward. Their teeth clack together and they break apart, grumbling, and this should kill the mood. But it doesn’t. All it does is prompt Ryan to mumble, “One…more…”

Another nod and Ryan’s practically on his lap now as their lips come together, easily open this time and Ryan’s tongue touches his and Shane lets out a pleased hum. Their tongues play along one another, against one another, testing and stroking, searching, and Shane can _taste_ Ryan.

This unbelievable, indescribable taste, like the ambrosia from earlier – something he’s always wanted, but could never name. He chases that taste even as Ryan _does_ crawl onto his lap, legs on either side of his, as he openly moans, “More, _more_ ….”

“Mmmhmm,” Shane manages and his hands rise up and float over Ryan’s back, wanting to touch, but not certain if they should. But then Ryan’s hands come up and cup his whole face and the decision is made. Shane’s long fingers grip convulsively at Ryan’s back, bunch up the material of the shirt he’s wearing and the kisses are _deep_ now. Deep and hungry and they’re both making these _sounds_.

Neither of them can seem to stop. The sounds are like music in the air – heavy breathing, the slippery wet clicks and unclicks of lips and tongues meeting over and over. Groans, whimpers, whispers…

It’s all spiraling out of control and there’s no stopping it now. It’s a full barreled train racing down the tracks. It’s fire igniting gasoline. It’s like something that was inevitable, a collision course, and it’s _change_. It’s monumental change that’s engulfing them both, burning them away into nothingness to make way for something different. Something new.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that this story IS sexual explicit. Tags updated.

Honestly, Ryan thought they’d talk more.

That’s their thing. It’s what they do. Ryan and Shane talk. Constantly. It’s a back and forth, a flawless banter, an effortless dialogue. It’s what’s really sold the show. The fact that, once around one another, they won’t shut up. It doesn’t matter where they are - haunted hotel room, bicitaxi, sitting next to one another facing a camera – they chat it up.

And while he never imagined them in this _exact_ situation, it seems like one that would beg for their normal commentary. Shane should be smirking, making some eye roll-worthy comment like ‘You look good in my clothes. You’ll look better out of them’ or Ryan should snort, remark about how his friend must be excited to add a ‘Boogara’ to the list of unusual suspects he’s notched on his bedpost with his _actual_ claws. Something like that. _Anything_ like that.

But neither of them is saying a word. They’re too consumed in this hot little bubble of silence they’ve created. Well, silent save for the sounds a hardcore make out session naturally includes and _shit_ , they’re necking like horny teenagers. But, okay, here’s the thing – Ryan _feels_ like a horny teenager. He feels the illicit thrill of this from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes.

His heart is drumming at this irregular, staccato beat and all his senses are engaged, just like they were the first time he ever made out with anyone. He can’t remember the girl’s name right now, but there was that endless string of excitement, that fun fear. Fear of wondering how far they’d go, fear they’d get caught, fear of – well, everything. Same for his first time with a boy. Better to say ‘man’, as it _was_ college, but still. That first wild brush of whiskers, of tongues and teeth, and just – _making out_.

They’re _making out_. Making out and not a single word is passing between them. Granted, their mouths are far too busy for speaking and Ryan doesn’t know where it’s going to end or if it’s going to end or better, oh so much better, _evolve_. Because his erection from earlier is back and it’s back in full force. The icy water from the shower is long forgotten as Shane’s dexterous fingers find their way up under the material of his shirt, tracing his shoulder blades and Ryan keens, arching into the touch.

 _More_. That’s the last thing he said and he means it. Ryan needs _more_. His hands are touching Shane’s face and it’s perfect. Warm skin beneath his palms, the slightest scratch of stubble and they slide up, fingers finding all that fucking crazy hair of his. They tangle there, tug at hefts of it and Shane lets out this fantastically deep groan. This groan that’s the perfect representation of pleasure meeting pain and then something is sliding up along Ryan’s hands and he draws back some, eyes sliding blearily open to see…horns.

Shane’s horns have come out and they’re near Ryan’s hands. Again, talking seems like a thing here. A joke about horny boys and their horns coming out to play. But there _is_ no talking. Instead Ryan’s eyes practically roll back up into his skull, eyelids fluttering closed again because fuck, _fuck_ , it’s so much hotter than it should be and he’s back on Shane’s mouth again, kissing him and grabbing the horns, yanking them.

Ryan worries for split second that that’s not a thing to do until he gets a _second_ groan, this one more aroused than the last and Shane’s hips thrust _up_. It’s clearly an involuntary move, but it doesn’t matter. Shane’s jeans are skinny and probably painful as hell, because Ryan can _feel_ his desire. It’s busting at the seams (the fly of his pants straining) and it’s…Ryan’s not positive, but it seems rather…

He whimpers, draws back his mouth once more and looks down and _holy shit_! Eyes go from half lidded to full as he sees the sizable bulge beneath him. There’s not much room _to_ see, the way he’s straddling Shane, but he can make it out and it’s…godamn. It’s impressive. And suddenly Ryan’s thankful they’re not talking right now, because if he said something like that to Shane he’d never hear the end of it.

And Shane doesn’t need that kind of confidence boost. He really doesn’t. However, Ryan can now understand why his friend has had so many liaisons with so many supernatural creatures. Apparently Shane’s dick is its own supernatural phenomenon. _This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we explore the Beast Beneath Shane’s Belt as part of our ongoing investigation to answer the question: is Ryan a size queen?_

The thought makes Ryan smile, but he still doesn’t speak, still doesn’t react past kissing Shane again. Fuck, he can’t seem to _stop_ kissing Shane. Now that he’s started there appears to be no end in sight. More so when he grinds down because, yeah, the answer to the question is obvious. Shane grunts and answers with his hips again and holy shit, this is hilarious. First making out and now _dry humping_. They _are_ teenagers!

And Ryan couldn’t be happier, whining, as he rocks against Shane and the couch beneath them creaks, evidently not prepared for this kind of activity. They kiss and thrust and build up this glorious friction that’s making Ryan’s head spin, heated electricity zigzagging along every nerve ending he possesses. Shane’s fingernails claw down the curve of his spine before tangling in the thin material of the shirt he’s wearing and one time he joked about how they had a hard time keeping Ryan’s shirt on.

Something about when they did ‘Test Friends’ together and Ryan bets he’s secretly pleased now that Ryan enjoys being shirtless so much because yeah, he breaks away from Shane’s mouth to help him tug the cumbersome material up and over his head, tossing it away. It lands somewhere (who gives a shit where) and then they’re back at it – kissing and rubbing lewdly against one another.

Except now Shane’s hands (those big beautiful hands) can touch more bare flesh with ease. They soar over every square inch, gripping and teasing all along the full expanse of Ryan’s back and his sides and then he’s clutching Ryan’s hips hard and lifting him up and oh, yes – Ryan really _does_ have a kink for strength. Because Shane lifts him with little effort and then, with far too much grace, turns him and presses him down on the couch beneath them.

 _Jesus Christ_! Apparently this is one of Shane’s secret demonic powers. Being smooth as fuck. Ryan both hates it and loves it equally. He’s never been so slickly manhandled. He’s lying under Shane now, his legs easily falling open to allow Shane between them. Ryan’s thankful the couch’s cushions are big enough for this, but the new positioning makes him blush. It’s so much more intimate than before, the full length of their bodies pressed against one another.

The blush only grows worse when Shane raises his hips up a few notches and reaches down between them and Ryan knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s a classic guy thing – the awkward shuffle of adjusting your hard on because your dick is pointing in the wrong direction, an uncomfortable one, and Ryan doesn’t know why but he…well, he finds it endearing? This relatable little moment slipping between the cracks of their more intense activity.

His is just fine, so he finds he wants to help and he reaches down too. Shane’s eyes dart up to his, wide with surprise. Ryan just – it’s so ridiculous – but he _giggles_. It’s got this intoxicated quality to it and this _is_ kind of like being drunk. He feels…light. And dizzy. And-and happy. He’s _happy_. This is…fun. It’s fun to reach down and just…just fiddle with the top button of Shane’s jeans, tug at it, try to unhook it and then those far too fucking attractive wrinkles form around Shane’s eyes as he laughs too and helps.

They laugh and nibble at one another’s mouths as they fiddle with the jean’s button, the zipper, all of it. Soon it’s all broken through, a wall toppled between them and the laughter dies in Ryan’s throat because the back of his fingers brush over Shane’s underwear and they feel…

_Oh God._

He just grazed Shane’s _cock_. And it’s _hard_. Hard and firm and _hot_. The cotton does little to disguise that and it’s right _there_. Just a little more wrangling and he’ll be free. Ryan’s fingers tremble and retreat. His arms in general fall back up near his head, but Shane doesn’t seem disappointed. If anything he moves past his own needs. With his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, his dick adjusted, he’s free to focus all of his attention back on Ryan.

And focus he does.

He captures Ryan’s mouth again while running his hands over the backs of Ryan’s arms, caressing the muscles of them. Ryan’s always recognized his arms as one of his best features, so he enjoys the feel of Shane touching them, shaping them beneath his palms before his hands slide up to find Ryan’s fingers, interlacing with them and they’re holding hands.

Holding hands while making out and grinding on one another and Ryan feels like a total fool at the flash of wet heat behind his eyelids because somehow, somehow _holding hands_ is what really makes his heart skip a beat. But then Shane squeezes both of his hands so hard with his and Ryan makes this weird sound in his throat, this sort of muffled whimper, because it feels so good, so _right_.

Their hands unhook after that, Shane’s descending to play along Ryan’s sides and Ryan’s back to Shane’s hair but Ryan doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that moment as long as he lives. Their hands above his head, locked and pressed, _together_. Shane’s mouth finally unlocks from his, hot breath scouring his face and then alongside his left ear and Shane licks at his earlobe, teeth scrapping it gently.

Ryan shivers, hums in pleasure and he opens his eyes again, sees Shane sprawled over him, the world’s best gawky blanket. Shane teases his ear some before going to his neck, teeth and tongue testing tendons before progressing to his arms and yeah, yeah, Ryan really does love his arms but he loves attention to them even more.

Having someone swipe their tongue along the back of your elbow shouldn’t be a thing, but apparently it is, breath punching loudly out of Ryan’s lungs at the action and Shane’s eyes are open too, looking at him, searching with this sort of endless ‘Is this okay? Is this?’ question behind his gaze. And Ryan finds himself nodding each time and apparently they’ve moved past words. They’re talking with their bodies solely and he’s fine with that. He’s fine with anything so long as this doesn’t stop.

 _More_.  Again, he said it – he meant it. The long, endless line of Shane continues; moves down. He practically slithers down and he’s at Ryan’s chest, thumbs working in tandem to brush over Ryan’s nipples. Ryan would be appalled at the moan that leaves him if this didn’t feel so goddamn amazing. His nipples are dark little nubs, taunt with arousal and Shane’s thumbs just rub back and forth, back and forth before moving into tiny, torturous circles.

Endless high pitched peals leave Ryan because his nipples ache now - so tight, so stiff.  He doesn’t think anyone’s ever paid this much attention to them. He doesn’t know how he didn’t know he wanted someone to pay this much attention to them. It’s as if Shane has a secret instruction manual to Ryan’s own body and he’s working him like a finely tuned instrument.

Then Shane’s mouth feasts on one and that’s it. Ryan lets out the world’s most embarrassing sound – one he’s never heard himself make before. It’s akin to a howl and the fingers of one hand twists in Shane’s hair hard while the other squeezes reflexively at one horn.  Shane sucks at his left nipple before paying similar attention to the right and Ryan honestly wonders if he might cum from this alone.

But then Shane’s tongue abandons both to glide down along his sternum and then lower, lower, low-!

“ _Shane_ ,” Ryan doesn’t recognize his own voice when he says it. It’s like an intruder, a pinprick on the bubble of the moment.  He had to push the name out, throat thick with desire, and want, and he finally, _finally_ spoke. He said his friend’s…his _bondmate’s_ name. But how can he not when Shane’s hovering right over the waistband of his sweatpants?

When he’s right above Ryan’s dick and fuck if it doesn’t pulse. It nods up, eager to be free, and Shane’s fingers curl under the waistband of the sweats, tugging down. Ryan immediately slings one arm over his eyes because shit, fuck, goddamn – he’s _naked_. Shane removes his sweatpants with ease, cursing in one husk, because Ryan’s not wearing underwear and that’s all, folks.

Ryan feels the cool brush of air all over his exposed body and his face flashes hot under his arm. Shane is seeing him _naked_. Shane is seeing his _cock_. Shane is seeing _everything_. All of Ryan, all at once. Shane, meanwhile, is infuriatingly fully clothed. Aside from his unzipped jeans, he’s got every stitch of clothing on, while Ryan is completely bared.

It’s simultaneously bullshit _and_ stimulating. Ryan doesn’t want to lift his arm away, doesn’t want to see Shane’s reaction but…it’s so quiet. Is-? Is he disappointed? Is this the cold splash of water on the situation that’s going to diffuse it? Is this where the oddity of their current predicament is going to step in? Frankly, Ryan’s surprised it took this long. The kisses started off so bizarre but then it all sort of clicked together and became flawless, so honestly, it was only a matter of time before-!

“Christ,” Shane’s sounds just as unrecognizable as Ryan, his tone crushed glass over asphalt, a pure starving _growl_ , “You’re so goddamn _pretty_.”

He feels like he should object to this description. Ryan feels like he should argue for ‘handsome’, that he’d settle for ‘beautiful’. But ‘pretty’? He shouldn’t enjoy that particular praise. But he does. He removes his arm and looks down to see Shane admiring his nudity, every uncovered bit of it.

And Shane’s _face_. Ryan’s never seen that expression on his bondmate’s face before, never even thought to imagine it. It’s _want_. Unabashed, unrestrained _want_. Shane wants him, needs him, has to have him and Shane carefully surges up his body to kiss him again, this kiss profound, devouring. Ryan returns it but can barely keep up with the reckless abandon of it and that’s when he feels a wave of lust wash over him.

Lust that’s _not_ his own. The emotional connection. It sparks to life and Ryan _whines_.  He can hardly handle his own desire, much less someone else’s. Much less _Shane’s_. But he feels it and whines because it’s too much, too much, and his balls grow taunt, dick like a goddamn rock. He needs something, anything. He needs relief.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Shane murmurs as he pulls away from the kiss, “Perfect.”

“Shane,” Ryan can’t seem to say anything past that, but this time it comes out with strain. He’s going to break, he’s going to _die_. He didn’t know it was possible to get this worked up with no actual sex involved. If Shane doesn’t do something soon, Ryan’s heart is going to give out and he’s going to become one of his own unsolved true crimes.

No coroner will be able to explain why a healthy man of his age died of heart failure. Heart failure and with a raging erection and _please, Shane, don’t let me die this way_. And it’s a thought, not an emotion, but Shane seems to pick up on it all the same, smiling as he moves back down and he’s over Ryan’s cock again. He eyes it with a seriousness that, again, should be funny or strange, but isn’t. Fuck, why isn’t anything in the world working like it normally would?

Instead Shane’s contemplating it in this way that makes Ryan feel more strung out, more eager. Shane’s eyes shift up to him and his tone is so guttural that he _sounds_ demonic, “Gonna try something…if you don’t like it, I want you to tell me.”

Ryan just hums but Shane’s face is grave, “Ryan, say it.”

“S-say-?” Ryan chokes out.

“Yes,” Shane returns, “Or no. Consent, buddy. I’m not-”

“Yes,” Ryan pants, rubbing at his eyes, “yes, god, please, fuck, Shane, _yes_.”

Apparently now he _can_ talk and it’s all rambling garbage of assent. Still, Shane _waits_ , killing him, “Remember, if you don’t like this – tell me. At any time. I’ll stop.”

Ryan appreciates this, he really does, but he said ‘yes’ and he’s all in and Shane’s just-just going to give him a blowjob and fuck, that’s so fucking _insane_ , but he’s okay with-!

And then Shane opens his mouth and Ryan can see his tongue and it’s forked. He has a forked tongue?! Like a fucking snake? The fuck-?! But, well, he _is_ a demon. His horns still in place and his tongue is…long. Longer than Ryan thought, longer than tongues should be and then it just reaches out and flicks at the plump head of his dick. Ryan watches with a mix of shock and pure fascination as Shane’s tongue extends to wind itself around his length. Fucking thing _corkscrews_ around his entire cock and then just, just coils up. It _pumps_ it.

It’s like a wet, slippery sleeve, like a sure hand working the breadth of it and the groan that bursts from Ryan is explosive. His head knocks back on the couch cushion beneath it and his hips cant up. Shane’s whole mouth closes over him then, cheeks hollowing while his tongue works in unmeasured intervals. At one moment it’s normal, the next demonic. One moment rounded tip, the next forked.

Shane sucks and licks and pulls, breathes fully through his nose as he drinks it all down and he’s practically at the root, tip of his nose rubbing against crushed hair, and Ryan’s dick is practically down his throat. Ryan’s never known such glorious wet heat, such pressure, he wants to thrust, but doesn’t want to hurt his bondmate, doesn’t want to choke him.

But then Shane’s hands change. They’re claws and the sharp little tips drag ever so lightly along Ryan’s hips, they draw the lightest bit of blood and Ryan just – he _loses_ it. He openly moans _Shane_ and _yes_ and then he’s clutching at Shane’s head as his hips snap into action. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut, desperate ‘uh uh uh’s’ panting out as he curls upright, hands gripping the horns like handles as he works up and up and oh god, he’s _using_  Shane’s mouth, he’s _fucking_ it, he’s-he’s close and he can’t-! He can’t-!

A twisted cry rents the air as Ryan cums. He’s groaning, shaking, gasping his pleasure as he releases himself into Shane’s waiting mouth, that unbelievably talented mouth, that’s swallowing him. It’s a sharp orgasm, one that breaks his clarity and it seems endless. Wave after wave of the purest pleasure. He’s never cum this hard, this long, and he’s lost his mind.

When he finally surfaces he finds himself lying back down again, every part of him limp and destroyed, and while there’s this heady release there’s also this niggling sense of tension. Shane. It’s Shane. The emotional connection is like a distant whisper now, but the whisper has some heat, because Shane has had yet to cum and he’s wound so tight. He draws off Ryan, licks his lips, and holy shit, Ryan came down his throat. Shane drank in all his spunk like it was nothing.

There’s not even a trace of it on his lips – his red, red abused lips, but Shane’s breathing is of kilter, brown hair flopping over his eyes, his sweaty forehead, as he trembles, shakes, every inch of him tense. He needs his release, needs it _desperately_.

Ryan mummers a wordless noise of sympathy and even though he’s still strung out on the hum of his own release he reaches down, searching for Shane.

Shane’s hand meets with his again and, like before, they work together. But this time it’s more than just unzipping and unbuttoning. It’s a little awkward, but they manage to push and pull down enough material to fish out Shane’s cock and even with how numbed out he is, Ryan recognizes that, yes, there is a beast beneath Shane’s belt. Shane’s cock is silk wrapped around steel, so fucking hard and long, and thick and _Jesus_. It makes Ryan’s mouth water and their hands are falling all over one another, fingers slipping against one another as they work it. It doesn’t take long. Not at all. Shane’s shout of victory is thunderous and Ryan’s hand is bathed in warm and wet and, and, and…

Shane falls against him, a not too gentle collapse of weight, and Ryan didn’t see his face. He didn’t get to see Shane’s face when he came. _Next time_ , he thinks and then, _then_ , he finally starts to come back to himself, back to reality. Next time? There’s going to be a next time? Ryan lays there, Shane’s face pressed to his neck and blinks up at the ceiling.

He rubs a hand at his forehead. Next time. Next time…

Shane grumbles something into Ryan’s neck and Ryan frowns, his throat sore from all the noise he’s been making as he manages to croak out, “What?”

“Er,” is all he catches, but he knows Shane said more than that, the first half of the word lost against his skin. Ryan nudges him, “Again?”

“Maybe later,” Shane jokes and there it is. The triumphant return of their camaraderie. Ryan rolls his eyes and Shane just grins, “Nah, I said ‘shower’. Need a shower now.”

Ryan just sighs and then the world’s biggest, goofiest smile takes his face, “So. We kissed.”

This gets a puff of laughter, “An’ then some.”

Ryan laughs too and Shane rises up more, searches his eyes, face surprisingly cautious, sensitive, “You freaking out?”

“Honestly?” Ryan asks himself as much as Shane and he finds the answer will surprise them both, “Not really. Maybe-maybe in the future. But right now? This…this feels right. Like…like it was destined to happen.”

“ _Psh_ , hate that. Destiny, fate – all that horseshit,” Shane murmurs yet still looks pleased, “But I’ll take it this time. Happily.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks and Shane gives a soft ‘mmhmm’ as he kisses him again. This kiss is less ravenous than the others and somehow that much sweeter. It’s eager, but gently so, and when Shane pulls back his eyes are twinkling, “Join me?”

Ryan starts nodding before he even thinks about nodding. They both lumber to their feet and pad softly into the restroom, their hands having found one another and linking again. Once Shane’s tugged him into the room and shut the door, he has Ryan up against it. He kisses him slowly, appreciatively, as if he’s savoring every second of it. For his part, Ryan relishes this tender turn, the careful approach after so much heat. He also relishes the chance to see Shane naked and he reaches for his ruined flannel. Shane helps him and it’s quickly discarded, as are Shane’s jeans and underwear and wow, naked now. They’re _both_ naked now.

It’s…sort of awkward. But also hot. Very hot. Shane’s claws and horns and tongue are all gone again and Ryan’s not sure if he misses them or not. Part of him does and part of him is glad to see Shane as he first knew him. It’s an odd cocktail of emotions, but nothing he can’t handle. Shane’s dick however…

He’s touched it, felt it – but seeing it is something else. Shane catches the direction his eyes have gone and smirks, “Not too shabby. But you’ve got a nice one yourself, mister.”

“No, I-I know.”

“You wanna measure ‘em? I got measuring tape somewhere, a ruler…”

“Blow me.”

“Already done. Next?” Shane chuckles and Ryan laughs loudly, the sound echoing off the small restroom walls. Shane turns to the shower and clicks it on, then descends behind the plastic curtain, looking at Ryan with a hint of seduction, “You comin’?”

“Already done,” Ryan repeats and one corner of Shane’s lips quirk up, “Want to again?”

“Fuck…trying to kill me,” Ryan says with a smile as he joins him.

 

+

They’ve shared a bed before but this is different. Wonderfully, blissfully different. Whenever they’ve shared a bed before, it’s been at a shoot or at a hotel while traveling. This? This is them cuddled up in Shane’s overly large bed, wrapped around one another. Or more,Shane wrapped around Ryan. He offered to be the little spoon, but shockingly Ryan wasn’t having any of it. He was fine just settling in Shane’s arms and Shane was more than happy to have him there.

The demon is still kind of lost as to how this happened. It started off with just a kiss and ended up…well, like this. Not that he’s complaining. Shane’s lips are pressed to Ryan’s damp, dark hair, idly kissing his head. They fooled around in the shower. Shit, how could they not? Two naked men in a hot shower kind of begs for mutual handjobs. And that’d been fantastic. It’s been so long for Shane and god knows how long for Ryan. Touching and kissing and orgasms. All very, very good things.

Certainly better than anything else that’s taken place of late and Ryan inhales, “Nice.”

Shane makes a questioning sound.

“This. It’s,” Ryan shifts a little, obviously a little shy, “It’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Shane smiles, hopes Ryan can feel it against his scalp. He runs his hands up and down Ryan’s arms. These arms. Fuck, he’s always wanted to touch them. They’re so goddamn beefy, so strong yet soft. Ryan sighs, obviously liking the attention, “Um, so…the tongue thing…”

Shane’s lips screw up to one side in sour amusement, “Surprised it took you this long…”

“No! No, dude, it-it was awesome! But I didn’t-! That was-!”

“Hey, if you’re gonna sleep with a monster, you might as well get some benefit from it, right?”

“You’re not a monster,” Ryan declares with such childish indignation that Shane’s stupid heart swells, the sourness dropping away as he laughs, “Yeah, I am. But it’s okay. Turns out you’re into it.”

“I’m not into it,” Ryan argues, “I’m-it’s-it’s you…”

“Me? You’re into me? How sweet,” Shane mocks, but it actually _is_ sweet and fuck, if he’s not careful he’s going to be in deep. Hell, maybe he already _is_. Maybe he was from the moment he first set his eyes on this dork.  Maybe that’s why he fought the bond so hard. It was already going to be hard to let Ryan go as a friend. As his bondmate? Lord…

“Anyway, what I was _trying_ to say,” Ryan grumbles, “Is now I get why you’ve been with so many creatures. And also, I’m glad that that’s something you do rather than say, bite someone’s head off at the end like a praying mantis, ‘cause I mean, that seemed more likely…”

“You’re saying I’m a praying mantis?”

“Well, look in the mirror and-!” Ryan breaks off with a startled laugh as Shane shifts to stick his tongue in Ryan’s ear. They wrestle a few moments under the covers, kissing and tickling, and being generally goofy before resuming their earlier positions, Ryan obviously not done with the idea of idle conversation, “What’s up next?”

“Next?” Shane asks and yeah, he’s got another wind if Ryan’s up for more sexy funtimes, but his friend just turns in his arms and looks at him in earnest, “Yeah, the vessel didn’t work and you said you have a plan.”

“Oh. That.” Shane frowns, mood ruined, “Yeah, let’s-let’s chat about that tomorrow, huh? It’s not great pillow talk.”

Ryan chews the inside of one cheek thoughtfully, “It’s…it’s not something bad, is it?”

“Nah. Just annoying,” Shane promises, “But if we can pull it off, I definitely think it’ll work. The sooner the better to be honest, because if this,” he waves a hand between the two of them, “is going to continue, we need to break the bond.”

“Why?”

Shane’s sure his cheeks go a little pink; the tips of his ears feel like they definitely do, “Because, if we go full on, it’ll cement the bond.”

“Full-?”

“If I cum in you,” Shane’s voice takes on a husky edge at just the idea, “If you cum in me.”

Now it’s Ryan’s turn to color, “Wh-what?”

“Everything we’ve done up to now is fine,” Shane explains softly, “But you’ve got to understand…the rest is…very intimate. It's you letting me inside your body. You know what a big deal that is for demons and all, being inside someone. There’s nothing wrong with casual sex unless you’re in a partial bond like ours. We go all the way; you’re tied to me for life. You don’t want that, do you?”

“I…” Ryan trails off and Shane ignores the irrational stab of pain, because come on. Of course Ryan doesn’t want that! Their relationship has been all across the board of late and Shane says as much, “Look, this has all been moving crazy fast. Friends, then bonded, then parents-”

“Parents?” Ryan cries and Shane grins evilly, “Ryan Shane Junior?”

Ryan groans like he’s heard the world’s worst Dad joke. In a way, he has, and Shane’s grin grows more wicked at the thought, “He was out there, by the way. On the mantel. Watching us. Probably traumatized for life now.”

Ryan buries his face in his hands, “Please stop talking…”

He doesn’t, “So, anyway, parents and now lovers and it’s all a lot to take in. We need to take a step back and return to square one. We kill the Void, break the bond, and then we can go from there. See where this,” he waves between them again, “whatever this is, leads us.”

“O-okay,” Ryan concedes, “But-but what if you, ah, hit-hit another-?”

“What? A quickening?” Shane asks, now well past embarrassment, “I don’t think I will. If anything, tonight probably helped with that. But still, you’re right. We shouldn’t poke the bear – pun intended because I know how much you love bears.”

“Fuck you,” Ryan returns and Shane is jovial, “You wish. But not until we break the bond.”

Ryan chuckles, but there’s this curiosity to his eyes that Shane knows is going to lead them down a dicey path. This is confirmed when he asks quietly, “If…if we did seal the bond-”

“Ryan,” Shane starts warningly but Ryan cuts him off, firm, “-if we did – what would happen?”

“It’s like I said. Tied for life. Married. But married more than mortals are,” Shane lets out a breath as if coming up for air, “I’d…I’d start to age. And if…when…you die…” he runs a hand along the sheets, unable to look Ryan in the face, “I would too.”

Shane knows Ryan is waiting for the punchline. There isn’t one. Ryan chokes, “You’re-?! What kind of crap is that?”

Shane shrugs, “Just the way it is, I guess.”

“But-but…you said when you die, you just-?”

Shane looks at him, “I don’t know, Ry. I’ve never done it. I-I think if I was bonded I might…fuck, who knows? I might go to heaven?” he lets out the bitterest laugh, “Isn’t that where all good demons go?”

A laugh bubbles out of Ryan but it’s not a happy one. It sits between them a moment, the last sound uttered, until Ryan manages, “No divorce for you guys, huh?”

“Nah. We’re pretty hardcore,” Shane confirms, tongue firmly pressing against one cheek, “You forget…we’re not human. I’m… _I’m_ not human, Ryan.”

Ryan looks at him now and Shane keeps his eyes trained on Ryan’s no matter how much it hurts, “I’m not human.”

Shane can practically hear his thoughts. _But you look human_. _You act human_. But facts are facts. Shane isn’t human and Ryan really needs to accept that. He needs to understand how serious and dire this all is, the magnitude of the consequences. All shit Shane normally avoids like mad. Sometimes Shane wishes he stayed asleep. Sometimes he wishes he never did a goddamn thing. But then he looks at Ryan and knows it’s all worth it, no matter how frustrating and heartbreaking it all is.

Because something he’ll never avoid is protecting Ryan and protecting him at all costs. Ryan nods to himself, seems to accept what Shane is saying and then he’s moving forward, kissing Shane and Shane allows it because he gets it. The conversation they just had is not a happy one and this helps. Something nice and good helps. So he kisses him back and it’s nice and then it’s better because Ryan smiles into it and asks, “You got any other super cool powers you’re holding out on me?”

Shane groans affectionately, “Flying isn’t a power. And neither is the 'tongue thing’ as you put it.”

“Okay, okay – but earlier you mentioned like, telekinesis, and obviously you can heal and are strong and-”

“Wellllll,” Shane draws out, scratching at his chin, “I can slip in and out of shadows.”

“Wait – really?”

Shane nods, “Did it a couple of times at shoots. Just to freak you out.”

“What! You-you son of a-!” Ryan smacks at Shane’s chest and Shane laughs, takes his hand and drags him close for another quick kiss. Ryan kisses back before pulling away, face scrunched up, “Weird you can do that though. Like the Void does.”

Shane blinks and suddenly it’s like someone dropped something, something shattering in his mind, “What did you say?”

Ryan is oblivious, “The Void. It can duck in and out of shadows.”

“Yeah,” Shane swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing, “It can, can’t it? And it follows you around…has your face…”

“Shane? Shane, what’s-?”

Shane stops, blinks, and then his whole face changes, wipes away like a blank slate from upset to vacant, “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit it’s _nothing_. You just-just sort of malfunctioned. What were you thinking?”

“Nothing,” Shane says again, but at Ryan’s pissy expression confesses, “It’s just…the physician told me the Void wants to consume you. Strange it…it should be able to do something _I_ can do. That’s all.”

“Why’s that strange?”

Shane just shrugs again and Ryan looks like he wants to kill him, so Shane holds up his hands in surrender, “Dude, it’s just strange. Full stop. Honest.”

Ryan doesn’t look like he believes him. Fair. He shouldn’t. God, Ryan really doesn’t know how much of a demon Shane is. Demons are exactly what Ryan’s always said they are. Demons are evil. Shane is evil and he doesn’t say anything more about the Void, instead smoothly changing the subject, “But back to your earlier question – I can also lucid dream.”

“Lucid-? What? Like ‘Inception’?”

“Kinda. Here,” Shane tugs Ryan close, draws him into his arms and lays them back on the bed, “The bond, even partial, will make this a lotta fun. Go to sleep.”

“Oh, yeah! I can just do that on command!” Ryan snorts, but Shane’s got his face buried in Ryan’s hair again, planting little kisses there, “Just relax. Breathe…”

Amazingly Ryan does as asked. He breathes. He breathes and Shane can feel him relax. Little by little tension ebbs away from Ryan and from himself and soon enough his eyes slide closed and then, then he’s off to the races. He falls into slumber and into dreams and the next thing he sees is the main entrance to Knott’s Berry Farm. It’s exactly as he remembers it, every detail down to the letter and Ryan is there.

Ryan blinks up at the sun, the clear sky, and then he sees Shane, “Wh-?”

Shane waves out his arms, “See? Lucid, right?”

“I’m-? This…this is a dream?”

Shane nods, “Yeah. Man, haven’t done this in _forever_.”

“How-? Shit, dude, I’ve got a million questions!”

“You always do,” Shane laughs and Ryan walks around in a circle. There are no other people. Only them. But it’s all very rich and detailed and like being there which Shane knows will be Ryan’s first question, “This isn’t real.”

“Correct.”

“We’re still back at your place.”

“Yup.”

“We’re asleep but you’ve…you made this?”

“I remembered it,” Shane corrects, “Not to brag, but my memory kinda locks this shit in. I can take us anywhere I’ve been and it’ll be just like this. It’ll be like we’re really there. But it _is_ a dream. Just a dream. Here,” he takes Ryan’s hand, “You’ll like this.”

He leads Ryan through the park. It’s empty, but strangely not eerie. It’s nice. It’s like they’re special VIPs who have the whole place to themselves. They get to the Timber Mountain Log Ride and there’s no line, no rush. They get all the way to the ride itself and the same smiling girl who let them on the first time waits for them, “Welcome! All aboard!”

“Shit! Is she-?” Ryan points to her and Shane just shakes his head, “Nope. Again, this is a dream. But didn’t think you’d like not having someone run the ride, so-”

They get into the log boat and start down the river. Ryan is look all around him and Shane is just beaming. It really has been a long time since he’s used this particular ability but doing it now, he remembers how much fun it can be. Or, well, how fun it can be when used for something fun. Not for torturing someone, which he has done before, but Ryan doesn’t need to know that.

Ryan’s been reminded enough about the bad aspects of Shane not being human. This, at least, is a fun one. The ride careens along its course and Shane edges closer so Ryan can hear him, “Keep in mind, doing this might bite you in the ass later.”

“How so? This-this is pretty fucking tight, man!”

“Yeah, but until we break the bond, I might do this again. Without even meaning to. Bonds are tricky like that.”

Ryan raises one shoulder and drops it, “Hey, long as you don’t rope me into a nightmare, I’m good.”

“Oh, you’re suddenly very brave,” Shane laughs, “No promises though. Also, yeah, I’ve recreated this perfectly, so – hope you’re ready for the drop.”

“The-?” Ryan starts but the log is chugging up the tall track now, cutting off his words and it’s clear he’s just remembered they’re on a very realistic feeling ride. Shane chuckles, because Ryan on an amusement park ride is always good for a laugh. One he lets out with abandon as the log crests the top of its upward climb, hurtling down now with great speed that urges Ryan to cry out. They hit a patch of thick water that rises up around them like a wave, sprinkling down like rain and Ryan hoots with joy because, well - dream or no - this is a fun ride.

One that feels real.

 _Like your relationship with him_ , Shane’s insidious thoughts hiss, but he pushes them aside because no, fuck you, insidious thoughts! He’s going to enjoy this lucid dream with Ryan, enjoy this _life_ with Ryan, for as long as he possibly fucking can.

For as long as he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for my reference to that song by The Killers. It just happened.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [queerunsolved](https://queerunsolved.tumblr.com) who helped with angel names and gave me some self esteem when I was sort of doubting this story. THAT SAID - you should read [Ihidaya](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143344/chapters/32594997) by them, which is about a million leagues better than any story I will ever write about Demon!Shane ever.

Ryan looks up. And up. And up and up and god, does this building in front of them ever end? It’s practically reaching up into the sky. It’s not that he hasn’t seen a skyscraper before, hell; he’s seen _this_ exact one before. Multiple times. But up close, it’s still impressive.

Shane, however, seems less than impressed. If anything he’s surly as he regards it with obvious disdain, lip curled with disgust, “Welcome to the Wilshire Grand Center! A seventy three-story building filled top to bottom with nothing but a bunch of uppity assholes.”

“Hey! You-you don’t know that everyone in there is-!”

“They are. At least the one we’ll be going into will be.”

“The one we-? What?” Ryan blinks, totally confused as Shane walks up to one side of the building. He eyes it speculatively for several seconds then sighs, rolling his eyes, “There you are…”

There’s a seemingly innocent set of smooth, polished stones with greenery inside set against the massive building. Shane goes up and gingerly knocks at it with a weird, rhythmic pace. No passersby would give the action a second look. There’s nothing unusual about it. It’s like he’s just testing the stone or fucking around or whatever. Ryan himself has no idea what the hell his friend is doing, save for the fact that Shane turns to him, holding out his free hand, “Come on.”

Ryan just looks at him and Shane sighs, “Take my hand, man. Before it’s too late.”

“Too-?” Ryan starts and just stops because why the fuck does he even bother asking questions anymore is beyond him. All this shit is crazy. Best to just go with it. He takes Shane’s open hand and Shane’s knocking has picked up in its intensity. Ryan wonders vaguely if his knuckles hurt, the way he’s rapping at it, but then – much like his experience at the Lot – everything around him changes.

It’s a rapid blur. It’s like he’s on an overly hyperactive scrambler ride at an amusement park, everything around him distorting so much that he has to close his eyes, lest he vomit. Shane’s knocking reaches its crescendo, “You can open your eyes now.”

Ryan does as told, “It’s…not spinning anymore.”

“Nope. We’re on solid ground, my friend. We passed through the barrier.”

Everything around Ryan looks the same. But different. Because now all the people and cars on the street are hazy. They _all_ look like ghosts. Ryan blinks and blinks some more. He wonders if they’ll ever reach a point where things just…settle and become normal for him. Probably not. After all, he woke up in Shane’s bed this morning – his friend wrapped lovingly around him.

They shared breakfast together, a few kisses together – before heading here. It was all sweet and domestic and so far out of the realm of all he’s ever known, so, yeah. This is his life now. Endless wonders. Ryan looks to Shane who just shrugs, “Like the Lot on the shipyard. Except this building is more finely layered. Not a surprise – they have the power to do this fancy shmancy shit. They commissioned this building to begin with, so it would be no trouble for them to put an entire dimensional veil throughout it. Total submersion. They do love their privacy.”

“Who does? You haven’t told me anything about what we’re doing today. This morning whenever I tried to ask where the fuck we were going you’d just distract me…with…kisses,” Ryan’s words slow because Shane now does exactly what he’s _been_ doing. Kissing Ryan to stop any questions about their activities. But, to be fair, Ryan allows it because what started off as weird has pretty much become something he can’t live without. Something he’s hungry for.

Shane dips down so easily, all that height condensed, so he can lock his lips with Ryan’s. And Ryan just surges up, hating (and loving) how he has to get on his tip toes somewhat to make the connection _really_ good. Shane’s arms lock around Ryan’s waist and Ryan’s hands go to his hair and if they’re not careful, they’ll end up in another make out session, so Ryan breaks away first, “You’re the worst.”

“You didn’t like that? Better try again,” Shane’s voice has the most seductive timber to it, but Ryan pushes him away lightly, “You know what I mean. Stop with the diversionary shit and let’s do this, huh?”

Shane lets out a groan but finally nods, “You’re right. Better to get it over with. They’ll just say ‘no’ anyway.”

“Who?” Ryan tries again, “Who will say-?”

But instead of distracting him with kisses, Shane just walks away. He moves at a quick clip into the building and Ryan has to jog a little to catch up. Stupid, sexy Shane and his stupid, sexy long legs. Before last night, it would have just been stupid Shane but Ryan now has to tag on the ‘sexy’ descriptor. Because this tall idiot _is_ sexy. Fuck his life!

Still, Ryan’s grinning as they walk into the building. The ghostly apparitions of people are gone and the inside of the building…it makes Ryan’s smile drop away. It’s even more impressive than the outside of the building. He suddenly feels very, very poor. He looks down at his Nike sneakers, red jeans, and gray shirt and, fuck, he’s wearing one of his baseball caps too. Christ. Why couldn’t Shane tell him they were going somewhere with a dress code?

Not that it explicitly says anywhere that they have one, but he’d have tried to look at least a _little_ nicer. Places made of chrome, glass, and marble pretty much scream that you should dress nicer. Of course, Shane is wearing jeans and a Hawaiian shirt, so Ryan supposes he could look worse. They walk through the ridiculously elegant lobby and approach a long, smooth desk. The man behind it looks like a model and Ryan wonders if they’re even allowed to approach him.

He feels like a damned peasant. He edges towards Shane, “Are-are we even allowed to _be_ in here? Wherever here is?”

“Hey, if they didn’t want to let us in, they would’ve barred our passage. Trust me, they’ve had eyes on us – well, _me_ – since the moment we strolled up to the actual building outside the veil. Yes, they normally don’t allow anyone in, but I imagine they’re giving us permission because they _want_ to bust my balls. As for you? They probably just think you’re cute,” he winks at him and Ryan bodily nudges him to one side. Shane laughs before turning to the male model and offering a bright, “Hi!”

The guy doesn’t respond. He has his eyes down on his paperwork. Shane’s happiness drops away, returning to annoyance as he runs a hand through his hair. He mutters a ‘figures’ under his breath before trying again with a loud throat clearing and a knock on the desk. No response. Ryan frowns, confused – does the guy not see them? Hear them? He looks more solid than the people out on the street were, but…

“You’re gonna have to talk to him,” Shane says on a huff.

“What? Me? Why?”

“He’ll answer you. Trust me.”

“I…” Ryan just shakes his head and turns to the guy, “Um, excuse me?”

The guy looks at him, “Yes.”

“Oh! Uh, hey…”

“Mr. Bergara,” the man greets and Ryan’s eyes widen, “Y-you know me?”

“I do. Kendrion,” he rises from his seat and offers his hand. Ryan shakes it because he doesn’t know what the hell else to do, “It’s nice to make your acquaintance albeit the poor company you keep.”

“The poor-?”

“Demons,” Kendrion offers crisply, “Our antithesis, naturally.”

“N-?” Ryan would feel stupid for constantly asking questions if every situation they’d been in of late didn’t always fill him with questions, but this one is easy enough to connect. His eyes go full wide circle, “You’re an angel!”

Kendrion’s smile is so attractive as to be disgusting and then his wings spread out. Ryan’s not sure how he missed the wings. Or maybe Kendrion just had them behind his back. They’re…divine. Glorious snowy white feathers that make Ryan want to cry.

His eyes actually _do_ go teary at the mere sight. Seeing them fills him with this surge of glory and awe and Shane lets out this insulted grunt, arms crossing. It snaps Ryan back into reality. Jesus, what the hell was that?

Kendrion is still smiling, “Your soul is quite receptive! Shame it’s currently tied to, well…”

He doesn’t gesture to Shane, still acting as if he isn’t there. And this is when Ryan _really_ comes back to himself. Because, no. He looks at Shane and Shane has that whole ‘last kid picked at dodgeball’ thing going on, “This is why I didn’t tell you. Knew you’d like it though. Everyone does.”

Ryan turns to Kendrion, “Is that true?”

“Is what true?” Kendrion asks and his blunt disregard finally tips Ryan off, “Look, can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, well, how about you take the dicks out of your ears and listen to my friend!” Ryan’s voice rises some and Kendrion’s head snaps back as if he was just struck, “He said that everyone likes it and by that I assume he’s referring to the whole,” he waves at all of him, “thing you’ve got going on and yeah, it’s-it’s amazing. Your wings are-! But, I mean, Shane has wings too! And he’s great! They’re great! He’s my friend and he’s _not_ poor company and when he says something to you, you – you should fucking acknowledge it, you puffed up pigeon!”

Ryan has no idea where the end came from and Kendrion is mouthing ‘pigeon’ when Shane suddenly grabs Ryan and turns him towards him, kissing him. Hard. Ryan enthusiastically returns it, because fuck this guy. Kendrion clears his throat a couple of times before they break it up. Ryan’s lips are well used, his face flushed, and he’s tempted to flip the guy off and go back to what they were doing, but he restrains himself. Barely.

Kendrion looks slightly miffed, “Very well, Mr. Bergara. As you are among the pantheon that is my father’s most favorite creation, I will…lower myself to your request.”

Shane is all smiles, “Yeah, I’ll just bet. You guys can’t say ‘no’ to Daddy’s humans, can you?”

“We do,” Kendrion’s tone towards Shane is beyond cold, “In point of fact. All the time. But one of our number has actually deigned to meet with you. Mercy be on his halo. Take the elevator down the hall up to the fifty first floor. You’ll receive further instruction there.”

“Kendrion, pleasure as always,” Shane offers and it’s clear he said the angel’s name just to tick him off. Shane and Ryan go to the elevator, which is also beyond extravagant, and start the smooth climb upwards. They don’t speak at first and when the silence is broken, it’s by Ryan, “What if we used a condom?”

Shane, who had been humming to the bland music overhead, turns to Ryan with some surprise, “Huh?”

Ryan’s face immediately bursts into flames; because that was not something he meant to ask. At least not so baldly. He’d been thinking it since early this morning and had planned to ask at some point, but now it just tripped and tumbled out of his mouth. But, in for a penny, “You, ah, you said if I-? If-if you came in-?”

God, he’s an _adult_. He can get these words out! However, he doesn’t need to because Shane picks up easily, “Oh, I see! Yeah, no – it’s the act itself. When you make a bond, you seal it and you seal it through classic penetration. It’ll look over handies and blowies, but once a part of you is deeply and fully inside someone else, that’s a signature on the dotted line.”

Ryan cracks up the minute he hears ‘handies and blowies’ and can’t seem to stop because his embarrassment over the whole thing is sparking something fierce. Shane, damn him, is unmoved, “I mean, I’ve heard it’s a bit different case by case, but when it comes to two dudes throwing down, that tends to be the clincher. Allowing your bondmate to do something so personal – I mean, I’d be inside you.”

His voice drops a couple octaves towards the end, killing Ryan’s laughter and taking a lot of oxygen out of the elevator. Ryan licks his lips and nods, “No, yeah. I-I see how that could be, um…”

“Interesting to know you’re trying to find a loophole, though. You that thirsty?” It’s a joke and clearly a stupid one and Ryan nudges him again much like he did downstairs but this time Shane captures his arms, turns him and gently corners him up against a wall, “That’s fine. I am too.”

Ryan just looks up at him, throat constricting, “Shane…”

“Bet it’ll be spectacular. Last night certainly was,” his voice is low and he edges closer. Ryan waits for a kiss, but then Shane draws back, all shits and grins, “But! Best to take these things in moderation!”

“You idiot!” Ryan laughs and Shane joins in, “What? Were you expecting something?”

“Not now,” he counters, “Now I don’t want anything from you.”

“Aw, baby, that hurts my feelings,” Shane whines playfully and starts cornering Ryan again only for Ryan to smile as he pushes him away, “Knock it off!”

They’re both giggly again and Ryan recognizes this feeling. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time. Infatuation. That rush you get at the beginning of a new relationship and fuck, is that what this is now? Ryan doesn’t know. It’s hard to wrap his mind around it – him and Shane as more-than-friends. Or maybe friends with benefits? But that doesn’t seem right either. Whatever; they have enough to worry about without trying to put labels on this – whatever this is.

All he knows is he’s in good spirits and that’s been a commodity of late. Instead of over analyzing everything and picking it apart (his normal go to) he’s just going to go with the flow on this one. See where it leads. Fingers crossed for somewhere good, which is funny when he thinks about the fact that he’s in an elevator on his way up to meet _another_ angel. Guess heaven really _is_ a place on earth.

Or at least a part of heaven is, and the elevator slows and stops, the lift dinging loudly as its doors open. The fifty first floor is just as ornate as everything else has been. It has the measured looks of a very professional office building. Plush furniture, classical art pieces on the walls, bright overhead lights in expensive looking sconces.

All cool white with silver and gold accents. Of course it’s _these_ colors. They could never have red. And of course he’s thinking this when a redheaded amazon approaches. Her pristine white wings are on fully display, a crisp black suit her armor as she clicks towards them on insanely high heels, heels so high she nearly towers over _Shane_.

“Mr. Bergara,” she purrs and gestures that he follow her with the simplest curl of her long pale fingers. Ryan gives a little head bob and does as asked, but does mutter under his breath, “And Shane.”

“They’re not going to acknowledge me, bud,” he says dryly, “Not if they can help it. Despite your impassioned plea downstairs, talking to me is their idea of a sin. Besides, I’m sure I rankle more than most.”

“Because of your level?”

“Yeah, let’s go with that one,” is Shane’s response and Ryan wants to ask more about it, but the redhead has drawn to a stop in front of dark wooden double doors. She turns to Ryan, “Right through there.”

He offers his thanks and she turns, clomping off like the prissy stable horse she is. Ryan doesn’t know what it says about him that he’s been so accepting of vampires, djinn, hell, demons! Demons, his once classic no go, are more palatable to him than these angels have been. Granted, these winged pricks have been looking down their noses at them since they got here, so that probably has a lot to do with it.

Well, looking down their noses at _Shane_ , to be sure and hey, that still counts as ‘them’ as far as Ryan is concerned. You look down on Shane, you look down on Ryan – it’s one and the same. Which makes Ryan all the more apprehensive about opening this door, “Dude, maybe we should just bail.”

“What?”

“I mean, did we even _have_ to come here? You said this is a longshot…”

“It is, but it’s worth trying,” Shane assures him and at Ryan’s face he relents, “Look, I wouldn’t put us through this if I thought there was another way. But these guys have something you can only get from them. If I thought there was anywhere else we could get it, I’d go there, but-!”

“Get what? What is it? The holy grail? The ark of the covenant?”

“No, Indiana Jones has that stuff.”

“ _Shane_.”

“ _Ryan_ ,” he returns with as just as much exasperation, “It’s…it’s grace, okay? They call it grace. It’s what makes them _them_. It’s not a soul, exactly, but it’s about as close as you can get.”

“Wait, so you need them to give up a part of themselves?”

“Eh, it’s no worse than a blood transfusion. But that’s not how they look at it, now come on…” He reaches for one of the overly polished silver handles, but Ryan stops him, “Okay, but if that’s the case, why bother? You said it yourself, they won’t acknowledge you, so why should-?”

Shane lets out a groan and ruffles his hair, glaring (actually _glaring_ ) at Ryan, “It’s for _you_ , Ryan! _All_ of this is for you! The Void is going to get worse before it gets better and we need to stop it and this might work. We’re running out of options. Yeah, this angel might’ve just invited us up here to laugh in my face and make me feel inferior and shit, but I. Don’t. Care. I care about _you_ and I’ll do whatever I’ve fucking got to, to-!”

He doesn’t get to say more because Ryan kisses him. It’s his turn now to cut Shane off with a kiss because, dammit, that’s sweet. _He’s_ sweet. He buries it under a lot of layers, but he’s a goddamn sweetheart. _His_ sweetheart. So he gets a kiss and a smile before Ryan opens the door. There are a whole lot of windows showing open sky and a big desk and the person behind it actually doesn’t have his wings out. Like everyone else they’ve seen so far, he is unmistakably attractive, but in a more unique way.

He’s wearing a very nicely tailored suit and has a strange, aquiline nose and very sharp cheekbones. He’s also extremely rangy, his body uncannily similar to Shane’s and when he sees Shane his broad lips stretch into an overly large smile.

He also makes Shane curse, “ _Fuck_! Of all the…”

“Brother! It’s been some time,” the man’s accent is thick and unrecognizable to Ryan. It’s _sounds_ British, but not quite, and just as Ryan’s trying to parse it out the guy charges forward to not only greet Shane but _hug_ him. It’s one of those one-arm-tug-in close-pat-on-the-back kinds of things, but it’s a hug. He’s not quite Shane’s height, but close, maybe an inch or so shorter, but still taller than Ryan, who he turns to next, “And Mr. Bergara! It’s a pleasure! You’ll never know how much your show means to me!”

“I’m-? Thanks?” Ryan hates the whole fish out of water thing he has going on. At some point he’ll really have to take Shane somewhere where he’s out of his fucking element. See how he likes it. But he knows the main thing he has to ask about, “Did you say ‘brother’?”

“I did indeed!”

“We are _not_ brothers,” Shane mutters through clenched teeth and the angel sighs, “Would you prefer cousins?”

“I’d prefer nothing, can we just-!” Shane starts, but is cut off as the guy turns to Ryan, “But where are my manners! I am Raziel, keeper of secrets, angel of mysteries. There are more than one of us mind, but I’m the best one. Wouldn’t you agree, Shamsiel?”

“ _Don’t call me that_!” The words are hissed. Literally hissed. Shane’s eyes are black and he flashes into full-on demon mode. Ryan actually staggers back a little, because no, no, no. It’s scary. He’s never seen Shane turn so fast. It’s like watching a coiled up snake attacking, whiplash quick, fangs unleashed.

Raziel, for his part, is less than impressed, “Now, now – no need for all that.”

Everything demonic about Shane disappears as quickly as it appeared, but his fury is still evident, “That’s not my name! It’s…” he deflates and suddenly he’s regular ol’ Shane. But regular ol’ Shane at his lowest, eyes downcast, voice small, “Not anymore.”

“You…” There’s been a lot of reveals. _A lot of them_. But for Ryan, this one takes the fucking cake, “You’re an _angel_?”

Shane just looks at Ryan. Ryan can’t help himself, “You?”

“He was,” Raziel corrects, “You are aware that there are different classes of demons. Corrupted human souls twisted in the Pit, hell born creatures – fallen angels are among them. Shamsiel is one of these. When he was among our legion he was quite taken with the sun, which makes your liaison all the more fitting.”

Ryan turns his questioning look to Raziel and he gets a soft laugh, “You have something of sunshine about you, Ryan. May I call you Ryan?”

He effortlessly places one hand on Ryan’s shoulder and starts escorting him across the office. Ryan finds his feet moving of their own volition, “Sure.”

“Wonderful! Would you care for something to drink? I can call Mazreal in here; she can get you anything you’d like. Anything at all.”

“No. I’m good,” Ryan murmurs and before he knows it, he’s seated in front of Raziel’s desk. Raziel turns his steel blue gaze towards Shane, “Shamsiel?”

“I told you-!”

“Yes, very well, _Shane,”_ Raziel stresses the name like it hurts him, “Honestly, you could have chosen something more charming. Now come, come. Sit.”

“I’ll stand. Thanks.” His tone is waspish and as far as Ryan can tell, unnecessary. Raziel is the first angel they’ve come across that hasn’t been a complete dick, so Ryan can’t really understand where the attitude is coming from. Shane moves over towards the large windows and looks out over the landscape while Raziel resumes his seat. He regards Ryan with a fond smile, “I must tell you, I appreciate your fascination with the unknown, Ryan. So many mortals are so dismissive of mysteries. It’s refreshing to speak to one who’s made a career of it.”

“I’m…shocked you watch it,” Ryan admits, “The show, I mean. Doesn’t seem like something an angel would do.”

Raziel shrugs, “We are tasked to watch over you. It’s only logical we would keep abreast of your affairs. Your likes and dislikes. I have seen so many changes amongst your culture, your people. It’s quite fascinating.”

“I’ll bet,” Shane grumbles and Ryan wants to ask him what the hell his problem is. Even more because he’s getting these weird influxes of emotions he knows are not his own. And the most singular one is _shame_. There’s jealousy, anger (a LOT of anger), distrust, annoyance…but it’s the shame that really tickles at the back of Ryan’s mind.

It actually feels stronger today than it’s ever felt – this emotional connection between them. Maybe last night _did_ seal it a little bit? As such, Ryan wonders if there’s not something he can do. He knows it works both ways, so he closes his eyes for a second and thinks, feels; he tries to push an emotion towards Shane. Confidence. Qyrora said they couldn’t manipulate one another’s emotions, but maybe he can silently offer Shane support. A mental comfort. _You don’t have to feel ashamed – I like you just the way you are._

Ryan hears an intake of breath and he opens his eyes to sneak a peek at Shane. Shane doesn’t turn and look at him, but he does press his hands against the glass of the window and he looks…better. Stronger. Ryan grins to himself, pleased, as he turns back to Raziel, who is watching the silent interplay between them with thinly veiled interest.

“Not to mention your show in particular covers my range. Mysteries, secrets. I actually _know_ the answers to some of your unsolved queries, but would _never_ answer them! Best to keep them in the dark, I should think! The believer and the skeptic,” a sunny chuckle escapes him, “Together, that’s BS! Glad no one seems to have noticed _that_ or, if they have, they’ve kept it to themselves. Better to call you the Ghoulies or what have you.”

Ryan just nods and he’s quickly coming to the conclusion Raziel is a big fan of his own voice as he rambles on, “You know, Shamsiel and I were amongst our father’s first creations…”

He sits back in his plush office chair, hands linking behind his head as he puts his feet up on his desk, “It’s why we look the way we do. Bit wonky. He was still figuring out faces, proportions – you should see our wings! Not the de rigueur, I assure you. Shamsiel’s in particular?” he closes his eyes and breathes out, “They were beautiful.”

“They’re _still_ beautiful,” Ryan finds himself offering and Raziel’s eyes pop open. He grins and kicks his feet back down, sitting up very straight, “Interesting, Ryan. Have I told you you’re very interesting?”

Ryan doesn’t know how to answer that and Raziel turns his head in Shane’s direction, “Ryan is quite the intriguing fellow. You’ve done well for yourself.”

Shane just shakes his head and marches over. He slouches down into the seat next to Ryan, “You know why we’re here, I know you do – so why don’t you just go ahead and sell us a line about how you wish you could help, but it’s out of your hands?”

“What? The Void? The grace?” Raziel snorts and he reaches into his desk. He pulls out a glowing glass vial and sets it in front of them, “Here you are.”

Both Ryan and Shane jolt up, peering at the vial. Shane snaps ‘Bullshit!’ even as Ryan gasps ‘Is that-?’ and Raziel looks pleased as punch to offer such a surprise, “It’s no trouble for an old friend.”

“What do you want?” Shane’s question is clipped and to the point and Raziel merely smiles but this time, ah, this time his smile is a little more cutting, “What makes you think I want something?”

“Because no one offers something like this up for free. So? What is it?”

Raziel pouts and places one hand on his chest, “What? Can I not merely be charitable?”

“Raz…”

“Ohhh, very well,” he sighs and he gets to his feet, “You know – you used to be fun, Shamsiel. Shame. Still! You may have the grace, but I highly doubt it will be successful.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Why, the prophecy, of course.”

Shane tips his head back and he groans at the ceiling, “Of course.”

Ryan brow furrows, “Yeah, we’ve heard a bit about this before, but no one’s been very clear, so maybe-?”

“But that would be telling! What is it your people say these days? No-? No spools? Spoils? Either way, it’s not my job to tell you what Alys witnessed,” Raziel looks far too elated and now Ryan gets why. He’s holding all the cards. He also now he gets why Shane was so dismissive the moment he saw this asshole, “Okay, look – this shit is wearing _real_ thin. We want to know what the fuck this dumbass prophecy is and we want to know now!”

“Making demands of me!” Raziel looks at Ryan with rapt excitement, “You _are_ an interesting one! I know I said it just moments ago, but to come here and be so-so _human_. Your kind has always been this way, you know. Insistent, self-centered – why did this happen to _me_? Why didn’t God answer _my_ prayers? Why do bad things happen to good people? Ha! Adorable!”

He reaches out as if to touch Ryan, but Shane jumps up and smacks his hand away. Ryan was more than prepared to take care of it himself, but Shane’s clearly been on edge since he saw Raziel and Ryan lets him have the moment. Raziel holds up both hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. Calm down, brother dear. I would never dream of hurting your beloved pet.”

“He’s not my pet!”

“Mmm, yes, ‘bondmate’. That’s what you call them. Supernatural beings are so particular. We angels don’t have such attachments, I’m afraid. We’re quite…singular in our tastes.”

Shane sticks to the heart of the issue, “What’s the prophecy?”

Raziel leans back against his desk, hands gripping it, “Do you know why most of you have never heard of a Void? Don’t believe in them? That’s because we handle it. Voids fall under angel purview. Father couldn’t bear it if something truly awful happened to his bipeds, so he has us cover that base. We might not stop wars or feed starving children – oh, he leaves that up to them. It’s all part of their free will, his social experiment – but Voids? Can’t have them running amok, now can we?”

“This got a point?”

“The point is, knowing this now; do you not find it peculiar that this one has been allowed to run rampant?”

“You’re saying…what? Dad wants to end humanity with it or something?”

Raziel bursts into endless chuckles and it’s a while before he catches his breath, “No! Oh my, no, no! Thank you for that though! It’s been some time since-!” he laughs some more before managing, “No, it’s nothing that dramatic, I assure you. You two knuckleheads couldn’t conjure up _that_ kind of wonton destruction.”

Ryan is moments away from socking this arrogant angel douche and Raziel must sense it, because he crosses his arms and tries to look a little less imperious, “A Void on its own _can_ wreak havoc, but it tends to only wreak havoc upon those responsible for its creation. Or haven’t you noticed it’s attachment to you?”

He eases closer to Ryan, “You in particular.”

Ryan swallows, “The-the physician said it’s attached to me. That it wants to consume me.”

“Oh,” Raziel grins, all bright white teeth looking like a shark, “It _does_. But you forget – it was attached to someone else _before_ you.”

His eyes shift over in Shane’s direction and Shane looks so sad. So guilty. Ryan looks back at Raziel who coos, “Aw, you still don’t understand, do you, little human? _Shane_ took the energy first. It should have _stayed_ with him. It even took on aspects of him – like shadows?”

Ryan feels cold all over. Raziel doesn’t stop, “And it wants you. Much like Shane does. It’s as attached to him as it is to you, albeit a little more loosely since he practically thrust it upon you to save your life. Had he let you die, you would have been welcomed with open arms into the kingdom of heaven. You would have met your true soulmate. Helen? I believe her name is? You’ve met her in other realities, but this one? In this you were denied. And why?”

Raziel gaze flicks to Shane again, “Because he’s so terribly selfish, isn’t he? More selfish than any human could _ever_ be. After all, he is a _demon_. And demons, as you well know, are evil.”

Ryan is shaking his head and he wants to tell this angel he’s full of shit. That he can go fuck himself. That he’s a lying, egotistical asshole. But the look on Shane’s face. Shane knew. He figured it out last night. Ryan knows that now. Ryan slowly gets up and gets to his feet. Shane walks over to him, reaches for him, “Ry…”

Ryan ducks out of his grip, “No. Just…no. Give…give me a minute.”

He exits the office and goes outside to breathe, to think. To do anything but be _here_.

 

+

 

Shane walks straight up to Raziel and decks him. Raziel actually staggers back and the sound of Shane’s fist meeting his chin is eminently satisfying. However, the angel merely chuckles again, “My, my, my! That had some kick to it! Your higher level is doing you good!”

“Can it! You never told us what the prophecy is. Spill!”

Raziel looks legitimately confused, “I thought it was spoil?”

Shane raises his fist again and Raziel side steps it, “Okay, okay – just– put that down, would you?”

He does and Raziel exhales, “Very good! Now then! Madej – that’s the name your cabal has taken, has it not?”

“What about it?”

“Hmm, all fallen angels. All now demons. All not like you,” Raziel resumes his seat at his desk and draws out a file. Much like Malthazor, he has but to snap his fingers and papers appear, “You have chosen a simple path. A frictionless one. The others? Trouble. Trouble with a capital ‘T’, they have been tearing quite the violent, dirty, under-handed path through the human world of late. Causing all sorts of headaches.”

“So? Why don’t you guys go down and take care of it? God’s little demon police squad, smite ‘em left and right.”

Raziel hums, “No can do, I’m afraid. Yes, father does like his angels wrathful, but he doesn’t want a full out warzone on his hands. Even Clean Up couldn’t keep up with the mess of a big operation and a small one? Again, a no go. Mainly because some things are planned, you know. Prestigiously and meticulously by our maker. The whole – he has a plan? In this case, he does. He really does.”

“And what the fuck is that, exactly?”

“I should think that obvious,” Raziel says and at the withering look Shane gives him he sticks his tongue to one side of his cheek before continuing, “Look, this Void is a chaotic energy. Right now, it’s focused on you two boys, but eventually it will move on. At this point it’s probably grown so exponentially as to not be smited by mere grace. Granted, you can try. In fact, I encourage you to try. Perhaps then it will go where it truly belongs.”

Shane glares at him, “You want it to take a host.”

“Not me,” Raziel insists.

“You-? No, _God_ wants Ryan to host the Void? Take out my cabal?”

Raziel’s eyes actually soften a degree, “Poor Shamsiel, poor _Shane_ , still so _blind_. Is that what happens to angels when they fall? Or are you so much of a demon now that you can’t consider alternatives?”

Shane chews that over, then says softly, “Me. It could take me.”

“Yes,” Raziel’s voice is gentle now, “Or perhaps you could find some other hapless soul to take on the burden. But I doubt it. You or Ryan. _That’s_ what the Void wants – the Void _you_ created– truly wants. It wants its proper home. To think, if it had just stayed in you…”

Shane is shaking his head, “I couldn’t let Ryan die.”

“And what’s so bad about death? You know what happens after. Well, for the good ones,” Raziel laughs but it’s humorless, “And Ryan is quite good. I’m sure you’ve heard it from many supernaturals by now. His soul is bright, it’s sweet. He’s like the _sun_. That’s why you couldn’t let him go, isn’t it? You didn’t want to lose the sun again. You didn’t want to be alone.”

“Shut up,” Shane breathes out, like he’s breathless, like the wind’s been knocked out of him, “Just…just shut up.”

Raziel’s shoulders droop, “Believe it or not, I _am_ sorry to be the bearer of this news. I am. I’ve always been fond of you. And Ryan truly _is_ interesting. Unique. It’s a shame that he’ll be consumed.”

Shane’s eyes are glassy with unshed tears and anger as he growls, “He won’t.”

Raziel just shrugs like it’s a foregone conclusion, hands disappearing into the pockets of his suit, “Take the grace, Shane. Try to stop it. But when the time comes…”

“It won’t,” Shane returns and he snaps the grace up, grips it tight. Raziel watches and looks thoughtful, “You know…it’s not in a demon’s nature to be self-sacrificing. “

Shane says nothing to that. He doesn’t have to, because after a brief pause Raziel continues on his own, “But if one _was_ , I imagine one that was once among the legion would be a fine choice. Former angels know what it _is_ to have grace. And a fallen one? I imagine he would know what it is to let it go.”

Shane turns towards the door, he doesn’t look at Raziel, instead just speaking over his shoulder, “Once the Void is hosted, can the bond be broken?”

“Yes. Naturally.”

“Could _you_ break it?”

“Indeed. I’d be there in an instant. That is the gift of angels.”

There's a bitter taste in Shane's mouth, but he just licks his lips as he makes himself say, "Promise."

"You have my word."

Shane says nothing else, he just leaves and Raziel stands there, watching him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, looks like I mentioned Helen after all. Apologies for what might be construed as stereotypical British villain - not at all intended. After all, Raz isn't a villain, per say. He's just sort of an asshole.


	15. Chapter 15

Ryan paces back and forth and back and forth. He honestly thinks about leaving. He could take the elevator. Hell, he could take the _stairs_. The idea of going down fifty flights isn’t appealing at the outset, but it’s not like he doesn’t have a lot of pent up energy to work off. As if taking this as a challenge, Shane appears at that very moment and Ryan turns to him mid pace. His jaw sets and he turns away, tromping directly to the elevator, because fuck it.

“Ryan,” Shane starts but Ryan just keeps moving. He reaches the elevator and hits the button rapidly, hoping against hope it will show up before Shane reaches him. Much to his surprise, it actually does. It’s like a scene out of a bad movie, but he’ll take it. He hops directly in and starts childishly spamming the close door button, but Shane and his goddamn stilt-legs eat up the ground between them.

He manages to get one of his pool noodle arms in between the doors before it manages to close and he ekes his way inside. They stand there, silent for a moment as the elevator begins its descent. It drops a few floors before Shane hits the stop button and Ryan’s immediately on edge, “Dude, what the fuck! Don’t do that! The fuck!”

Ryan reaches for the button to start it up again, but Shane covers it bodily, “We can’t get trapped in here, it’s virtually impossible. But I can stop it long enough for us to talk.”

“Talk? Talk about what?” Ryan takes off his baseball cap to run a hand through his hair, “Talk about how you lied about the Void? About how you lied about your name? About how you lied about whom…no, _what_ you fucking _are_? You _lie_ , Shane. You lie and you lie and you lie and you say you’re not going to lie again and then you just turn around and-!”

“I didn’t _lie_ ,” Shane spits and Ryan chucks his cap at him. It falls to the ground with a muted thud and it was a random reaction, but it felt good to throw _something_ at him. Honestly, Shane’s lucky it wasn’t another fist, “You did! You lied just last fucking night! You clearly had some goddamn epiphany about the Void and you chose not to share it. You withheld information. _Again_. That’s just the same as lying, you dick!”

Shane’s chin juts out and it’s clear he’s just as angry as Ryan, “I didn’t do that, alright? I wasn’t positive that that’s what was going on! I _thought_ it might be and for the record? I would have told you once I confirmed it!”

“ _Psh_ , yeah right!” Ryan scoffs, “You don’t tell me shit! You just keep me in the dark and only reveal things when it’s convenient or when someone forces you to! Turns out talking to you is like a fucking chess game! Everything is strategically plotted and you only give up pieces when you have to!”

“This isn’t a game,” Shane counters and he picks up Ryan’s hat, shakes it at him, “That’s the whole point! I can’t risk anything! Not with this! Not with you!”

“So, you’re telling me it wasn’t a risk taking me to the Lot in the first place?” Ryan tosses out and Shane looks like Ryan straight up slapped him, the cap falling out of his hands, “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Raziel wasn’t completely wrong, was he? You’re selfish and-!”

Shane’s face is taking on an unhealthy purple hue as his fury boils over, “I took you for your birthday, you ungrateful-!”

“I didn’t _ask_ you to!” Ryan snaps back, probably just as dark a shade, his face burning, “You could have just gotten me a fucking gift card like a _normal_ human being. But that’s just it! You’re _not_ a normal human being! Turns out, you’re not even a normal demon, you’re-!”

“ _Don’t_ ,” the word practically sizzles out between Shane’s teeth, a deadly warning, but Ryan won’t stop, “-an _angel_. A fucking _fallen_ angel! What’s next? Are you secretly Jesus? Are you one of the Four Horsemen? I’d fucking believe it at this point, because every time I think I have a handle on you something else spills out and the Void!”

Ryan jeers at him, “The fucking monster that’s been stalking me is your entire goddamn fault! You _made_ him! He came from you! That night if you had just let me-!”

And this is when Shane’s has had enough. His right fist darts out and hits the elevator wall so hard it _bends_ it. Ryan stops and swallows, eyes watering because, the sight, the sound – they both frighten him into stopping. Shane glares at him, eyes pitch black, “Don’t you ever, _ever_ do that. Don’t you ever ask me to apologize for saving you.”

“I-” Ryan licks his lips, his voice shaking, “I-I didn’t-?”

“You did,” Shane returns coolly and while his eyes melt back to normal, they’re still hot, “I’ll apologize, Ryan. I’ll say I’m sorry for anything you want. For not telling you about being a demon, about the bond, about my name and about…even about what…what I was. But I’ll never apologize for that.”

“Shane…”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Shane runs his right hand through his hair and his knuckles are torn, bleeding, but Ryan knows that’s not what causes the wave of agony that washes over his face, the tick in one cheek, “I’ve told you. I’ve told everyone. Don’t you understand? I thought if anyone would…”

His voice goes soft, quiet and Ryan feels like a child who’s being scolded by their parent. He feels small as Shane breathes, “If you’d died, I wouldn’t…I couldn’t have gone on. I…I always thought…I _knew_ ; that one day I’d lose you. I _still_ know that. But on that day you’ll be _alive_. You _have_ to live, Ryan. I need you to…”

“Hey, hey,” Ryan walks over towards him but Shane turns away, he pushes the button and the elevator starts again. They go down a few more floors before Ryan hits the button, drawing the lift to a halt again. Ryan breathes in through his nose, “I’m…look, dude, I’m sorry.”

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” Shane murmurs tonelessly, “Maybe…maybe you’re right. Maybe ol’ Raz is right. You’d’ve been better off…”

“No,” Ryan counters quickly and he tugs Shane close, kisses him. Shane doesn’t kiss back and Ryan feels like someone is strangling him, like something’s gripping his heart and squeezing. He keeps trying to get Shane to respond, but he won’t, so Ryan pulls away to whisper, “If-If I was dead, I wouldn’t be with you. We’re…we’re a package deal. Remember?”

Shane looks at him sadly and Ryan can’t stand it, “You barely even knew me then and you said it.”

Shane shrugs, “It seemed like the right thing to say.”

“…you said it as a joke,” Ryan returns but he’s smiling lightly and Shane’s own lips twitch. Ryan counts that as progress, “‘Rock’n roll buckaroo’?”

“Again, seemed the right thing to say.”

“While lying on a pentagram?”

Shane makes a noise, “That thing couldn’t do shit. It was an old burn mark on the floor.”

“Did-?” Ryan laughs a little, “Did you fuck with the flashlights?”

“No. Sallie did.”

“Bullshit.”

“Kid you not. That was actually one of the places we went that _is_ haunted. Sallie’s a real piece of work though. He’s a total tool.”

“Sallie’s a _man_?”

Shane just shrugs again and Ryan laughs and the air feels better. Brighter. It feels like something is being mended between them. Still, Shane sighs, “You’re right though. I’m not normal. Not for a human or even a demon. And I lie. I do. A lot. I mean, granted, I work for the ‘Prince of Lies’ but I feel like I’m starting to have him beat.”

Ryan can’t help but grin when Shane finger quotes ‘prince of lies’ and he says, “Well, you do have ‘sham’ in your name.”

Shane shoots him a quizzical look and Ryan supplies, “Shamsiel?”

“That’s not my name,” he sounds sad when he says it and Ryan thinks back to the office and the feeling of shame that was pouring between their connection, it makes a lot more sense now, “But it _was_ your name, right? And...and Raziel said something about the sun?”

“The earliest of angels were given little gifts. Things to watch over,” Shane doesn’t meet his eyes, “God created many things in the universe, but not everything. Science is just as much a part of him as everything else. The sun…”

He can’t seem to continue, “Darkness is better though. Soothing. Relaxing. I’ve noticed that many times when we’re on location.”

“You don’t miss it?”

“How can I miss it when I have-?” Shane’s words cut off abruptly and he’s looking at Ryan and somehow Ryan just knows the rest. _How can I miss it when I have you_? Is _Ryan_ like the sun to him? Is that why he’s never been afraid when they’ve gone into dark locations? Is it more than just his reassurance of being a demon? Of the places not _actually_ being spooked?

Does he always draw comfort from having Ryan near because he likens him to something he used to have? To watch over? Is that why he watches over Ryan now? Ryan’s never thought of himself as a sunny person. He’s just…average. Just an average Joe. But he keeps getting these compliments about his soul and his general disposition. It’s flattering, but weird. A little overwhelming too, to be honest, so he pushes the button to start the elevator again.

They finally reach the bottom floor and he makes sure to grab up his cap and put it back on before they exit the building. They walk outside, but they’re still within the bubble of the dimensional veil. The people and cars on the street are hazy ghosts and Ryan thinks it’s better, safer, to be shielded in here to continue their conversation. He didn’t want to do it in the elevator. He didn’t even want to do it in the building, seeing as its filled top to bottom with angels. But out here? Out here he feels like he can breathe more, talk more.

“You could’ve told me.”

Shane just looks at him and it’s clear he expected more conversation whether he likes it or not. And Ryan would feel bad about it but, dammit, better to get this all out now, “About being an angel. I mean, yeah, I would’ve had a hard time believing it, knowing you like I do, but you could’ve told me.”

Shane lets out a bitter laugh, “Oh yeah! Bet you would’ve loved to hear all about it. Just like you loved finding out I’m a demon!”

“Hey, I’ve accepted-!”

“No, you’ve _adjusted_ , Ryan. Big difference. And, surprise, surprise – I’m _not_ a huge fan of that tidbit about myself. I never lied to you about being a fallen angel, because I never wanted you to know I _was_ a fallen angel in the first place.”

“But why-?”

“Why?” this gets an even bigger laugh, this one almost hysterical, “You mean, why wouldn’t I want to share the worst thing about myself? The most shameful and embarrassing thing? The thing you’d point to and be like, ‘Well, of course, you’re fallen! How could you be anything else?’”

“I-I wouldn’t-!”

“Oh please!” Shane turns on him, all six feet four inches of him upright, taunt with aggression, “You’d think it’s a lark like everyone else does! And then you’d ask what they ALL ask, which is _why_. Why did I fall and you know what? I don’t _fucking_ KNOW!”

He practically bellows the last word as he scrubs both hands over his face, “I’ve asked myself for far too many centuries to count just what the fuck I did that was so wrong! Why was I tossed out and others weren’t. He kept _Raziel_ , but not me? Why? What did I-? But whatever; fuck him and you and anyone else who wants to give me shit over something that happened in my goddamn infancy!”

Ryan absorbs all that and, surprisingly, doesn’t rise to the bait. The anger. Because he knows for a fact it’s not directed at him, not really, and he can’t help but remark dryly, “Thought you said you didn’t have daddy issues.”

“I don’t,” Shane grumbles, “I just have a problem with everyone thinking so highly of the greatest gaslighter of all time.”

Ryan lets that one rest, instead turning to something a little easier albeit still unpleasant, “The Void…”

“We’ll handle it. _I’ll_ handle it,” Shane tosses in the last bit and looks speculatively at Ryan, “Look, this-this has all been a bit much. I mean, lately everything’s been…”

He trails off and looks around them as if searching for an answer before finally picking up with, “…we probably need a break, yeah? _You_ probably need a break. We’ve been tied at the hip lately and before I was worried you’d be attacked if you were left on your own, but the Void came after us when we were together anyway, and I don’t think it’ll be back for a while, so maybe-?”

“You think we should spend time apart?” Ryan asks, absolutely flabbergasted by this suggestion and Shane just bobs his head, “Yeah. Yeah, I mean – don’t you think it would be better for you if-?”

“No!” Ryan cuts in sharply and Shane’s eyes widen. Ryan’s a bit surprised himself by his effusiveness, but he’ll be damned if he lets that stop him, “Look, was I little pissed at you earlier? Yeah, but not _that_ pissed. And I don’t think you’re that mad with me, so…”

“Ryan,” Shane offers gently, “I-I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to get all wrapped around one another when-”

“Are you saying what we have is unhealthy?” Ryan interrupts smartly, “That _you’re_ unhealthy? That _I’m_ unhealthy? Well, yeah, duh, no surprise. So is _everybody_. Everybody is a little fucked up, everybody is a little dysfunctional – it doesn’t matter what fucking world you’re a part of, what manner of creature you are – at the end of the day, we’re all damaged. But y’know, it’s-it’s better to be damaged together than-than apart.”

Shane side eyes him, “You just want me around, don’t you?”

Ryan lets out a deep exhale, “Yeah. Yeah, I do. So sue me.”

This gets him a smirk and Ryan eyes squint as he thinks, “You’re right though. Sorta. A break from all this would be good, but _we_ should take it. Not just me.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting we take a whole day for ourselves. No talking about the Void or angels or demons or _anything_ supernatural. We just spend it like we used to do. Just the boys.”

“Well, I hope not _exactly_ like we used to,” Shane purrs and gets closer to Ryan and oh yeah, Ryan almost forgot. Or, well, not _forget_ so much as it-? It feels like its already normal? Like it’s always been there and how the fuck does that make any sense but whatever, Shane’s all up in his personal space and he’s okay with taking advantage of that.

Ryan surges up and kisses him and wow, he’s kissing him in public. Or semi-public. Ryan’s never thought of himself as the PDA type but this feels too good for him to refrain. He kisses him and then tugs away to roll his eyes, “Fine, just the boys, but with-with bonus points.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“You got a better name for it?”

He shrugs and takes one of Ryan’s hands, kissing the back of it which makes Ryan feel stupidly thrilled, “Not really. Like your roundabout way of asking me out on a date though.”

“I’m-! I’m not-! Ah,” Ryan scratches at the back of one ear and Shane’s _still_ playing with his hand and kissing it idly, “Technically I said like we _used_ to. We didn’t used to-to go on dates!”

“Didn’t we?” Shane winks and Ryan finally draws his hand back to laugh, “No, we fucking-well didn’t, you jag off! We were just friends.”

“Just friends who spent an ungodly amount of time together – traveling, shooting bits at ‘haunted’ places, editing film together, shooting barbs at one another, riffing,” Shane beams, “Yeah, you know, I’m turning around on this whole ‘fated’ thing. Seems like we were headed down the road to bump uglies eventually.”

Ryan gusts out ‘bump uglies’ as he walks away, Shane at his heels.

 

+

Shane is a coward.

This isn’t particularly surprising to him. Physically he’s not much of a threat. All the fights he’s had up to this point haven’t been fights, so much as ruthless struggles (with a wild flailing of his stick limbs) where he’s gotten extremely lucky.

And mentally, he’s not much of a threat either. People look at him and _think_ he’s placid and well collected and smart. They think that there’s not a lot going on beneath the surface, his face inscrutable at the outset, but that’s not the case. There’s actually a lot tumbling around inside him. Chief among them (at least of late) his surprising amount of cowardice.

Everything he’s done up to this point has had a basis in fear. Fear of discovery, fear of emotion, fear of Ryan and things pertaining _to_ Ryan and fuck, he should’ve just pulled the trigger. He should have been man enough, _demon_ enough, to put his foot down. He could have easily just been an asshole. He could have let Ryan walk away angry. He could have kept arguing with him. He could have pushed Ryan away.

He _should_ have pushed Ryan away. Shane should have looked his one true friend in the face and told him to fuck off. Shane should have put space between them. He tried. Very, very feebly – but he tried. However the moment Ryan fought back, no matter how little; Shane folded like a house of cards. Because Shane likes being around Ryan. Hovering around him like the sun and he can go without any more symbolism, thanks.

Stupid past. Stupid long ago forgotten things that should _stay_ forgotten. The past is just that – the past. The only thing that should ever matter is the present, because the future is an unknown quantity and at least in the present…well, in the present he can at least have this. Ryan walking next to him and babbling about…something. Honestly, now that he’s…whatever he is, to Ryan, he should probably put forth more effort in listening to him when he’s talking.

He should express interest. But there’s something to be said for just hearing the timber of Ryan’s voice. The cadence of it. The words don’t matter as much as the sound. He’s going to miss it. He’s going to miss it when he-

No. Shane doesn’t know for sure he’s going to have to do that. He shouldn’t focus on it. Shouldn’t dwell on it. It’s a decision he’s made, but doesn’t know if he’ll have to follow through with. There are other possibilities. Again, the future is a random outcome. Granted, it is why he thought he should push Ryan away – it might make what he has to do easier. But infinite possibilities, right?

Maybe they’ll find some other way to deal with the Void. Maybe. But either way, he doesn’t know for sure. Also he doesn’t even know if he can overcome his own cowardice to do it. To do the right thing. People always talk a big game about doing the right thing, but when you’re actually staring down the barrel of the gun, when you’re in the heat of the moment, is it something you can do? Guess he’ll find out. But that’s future Shane’s problem.

For now he’s got this. He’s got Ryan turning to him and asking, “So, does that sound good?”

“Um. Yes?”

This earns him a scowl, “You weren’t listening, were you?”

“I mean, I was _listening_. Now as for paying attention…”

“You dick!”

“Not my fault you jibber jabber. I mean, I can usually sum it up to about three things. Food, work, or ghosts, so…”

“No, no,” Ryan laughs, “I talk about other shit. Not just that!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot, so like – murder, bears, sports, sneakers…”

“I swear to god,” Ryan shakes a fist at him, “I’m going to murder you.”

“Ha! See? Murder! One of the things I said you-!” Shane’s words cut off as Ryan shoves him hard. They both chuckle before Ryan tries again, “I was talking about tomorrow, doofus. I was saying we could meet up at my place and watch some television, have a couple of beers...”

“That’s your plan for our date?”

Watching Ryan get flustered is always adorable, “It’s not-! I told you, we’re-!”

“Yeah, yeah. Hanging out like pally pals who are just pals, just like we used to. I get it.”

“You’re the one who wanted things to stay status quo! Us as friends who work at Buzzfeed, no supernatural stuff, no bond…”

“I do. I still want that stuff. That being said,” Shane makes sure to say ‘that being said’ in Ryan’s theory voice and Ryan cracks up so hard he has to repeat it, “That being said, I’ll admit to being wrong-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Ryan interrupts, “Hold up! Let-let me get a camera!”

“Shut up,” Shane smirks but Ryan is too gleeful, “No! You never admit you’re wrong!”

“Sure I do!”

“When? Name one time.”

“That time I ordered pinto beans instead of black beans on my burrito.”

“You didn’t say you were wrong! You were just like ‘urg, shouldn’t’ve gotten pinto’!”

He claps his hands together, “There you go.”

“Oh, fuck you! That’s not saying the words ‘I was wrong’!”

“Close enough.”

“You-you-!” Ryan can’t seem to get out exactly what Shane is, he’s laughing too hard. Shane just picks up like that random side conversation didn’t happen, “Anyway, now that we have this, I’ll admit to being a fan and wanting more.”

“You want more? Like Oliver Twist?”

“Yes, sir. Can I have some more?” Shane does a stupid voice on that and Ryan just shakes his head, “You’re still so bad on British accents. Should have Raz give you some lessons.”

“Fuck him,” Shane says airily, “That’s not a British accent! He’s not British! He just thinks it makes him sound classy or some shit. It’s not like he could come up with a southern twang. I don’t think I’ve ever met an angel who has like, a deep Georgia drawl or sounds like they’re from Boston.”

Ryan pauses for a moment and he just knows Ryan’s thinking about Shane’s voice. He’s also probably thinking about Shane’s ‘origins’. Illinois, his parents, everything that was provided to him by the council of False Humanities. But while he might be thinking it, he thankfully doesn’t give voice to it, “So, does-does tomorrow sound good?”

“Yeah. You’re on, buddy boy. We splitting up for now?”

Ryan gives him a timid nod, “Yeah, think I should go home and get some time by myself. Process everything. I _do_ think that. But tomorrow-”

“Yeah, yeah. Tomorrow’s date night. Just text me,” Shane offers and makes sure to work in another wink, just to watch Ryan mull over it. It’s good in a way, best to get some time to himself, to plan and put things in order. He’ll need to if – or when – he does what he has to do.

The evening and most of the next day shoot by without much fanfare and when it’s finally time to go to Ryan’s place, he’s practically chomping at the bit to see him. It’s funny, used to be after traveling and long shoots and working in the office side by side, he looked forward to some time away from Ryan. But now? Now Shane feels sort of bereft without him. As if he’s missing something.

As such, it’s a relief when Ryan opens the door to his apartment, “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Shane returns, just as casual, but there’s this oddness between them now. This awkwardness that Shane can’t put his finger on. At first. But then he eases into the apartment and sees a bundle of flowers on a nearby table. Ryan sees them too and curses. He rushes past Shane to snatch them up and put them behind his back.

“Flowers?”

“Huh?”

“Behind your back, Ryan. The flowers you are very unsuccessfully trying to hide.”

“Oh, uh, these?” Ryan brings them back out and shrugs, “Yeah, they’re just-? Ah, you know…”

Shane’s bemused expression clears away and he feels a dopey smile take his face, “Holy shit, did you buy me flowers?”

Shane can practically see steam coming out of Ryan’s ears. Ryan shakes his head jerkily, but it’s clearly a lie. Shane’s dopey grin is just growing and finally Ryan breaks with a disgusted noise, “Okay! Fine! Yes! Alright? Yes, they’re-they’re for you! You got all in my head what with calling it a ‘date’ and it’s-it’s been a while and I know you’re not a girl and you probably don’t even-!”

Ryan doesn’t get to say more, because Shane can’t help himself. He _has_ to kiss him. He presses a warm kiss to the man’s lips and just as Ryan tries to deepen it he draws back, because hey, this _is_ a date and you should always leave ‘em wanting more. He picks up the flowers and takes a deep inhale, “These are nice. Grocery store?”

“Does that matter?”

“Not really.”

“God, I was gonna throw them out, but then you knocked-”

Shane lets out the most scandalized sound and clutches them close, “Toss my flowers! How dare you, sir!”

Ryan rolls his eyes but smiles, even as Shane continues, “Such ungentlemanly acts will see your suit refuted!”

This has its intended effect and Ryan laughs, “My suit? I-I wasn’t aware I was ‘courting’ you.”

“Well, not with that attitude you’re not,” Shane cries, then points at Ryan with the flowers, “Or should it be the other way around? Should I be the one a’calling?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one who ‘levels’. Seems more like your ballpark.”

“You’re saying this is a dating sim? Not my kind of game, to be honest. And neither is climbing the ladder in the supernatural hierarchy, which we agreed not to talk about, so! A subject change is in order!”

“Agreed. Pizza?”

“Hmm, your suit is no longer refuted,” Shane chuckles and he sniffs at the flowers again. Ryan calls for a pizza and turns on the television. He has cold beers and a big bowl of popcorn already set out. He pulls the bowl into his lap as he sits on the couch and fiddles with the remote, “I’ve got a basketball game DVR’d and ready to go and before you say anything, know that I’ve had to put up with your whole new world for a while now. This is only fair.”

“You’re saying you want me to be in the dark and ask a bunch of questions?”

“You bet your sweet ass, I do,” Ryan laughs, “It’s your turn to have no idea what the hell is going on.”

“I know sports,” Shane hedges, “A little…”

“Uh huh,” Ryan snorts and pats the empty spot next to him. Shane takes it and they start watching the game and, yeah, Shane really doesn’t know that much about sports. A few minutes in and he’s asking questions that Ryan is visibly very happy to answer. Shane loves when Ryan talks with his hands and he’s doing it a lot now as he explains free throws and three point shots.

The pizza arrives and they dig in as the team Ryan likes scores another point. The main thing Shane’s taken from the game is that it’s fun to watch Ryan so happy. His dark eyes follow the action on screen with rapt attention and every time the ball soars through the air he holds his breath just a little. Shane’s sure he’s watched a game with Ryan before, but it’s different now. It’s different seeing as they’re advancing their relationship to…

And finally he just has to ask, “Ryan?”

“Mmm?” Ryan manages; pizza in his mouth.

“You decide if this is a date yet?”

Ryan’s eyes go wide and he chokes some. He snaps off an elastic bit of the cheese and swallows it, lips shiny with grease before he manages, “What?”

“The flowers, the food, the entertainment. Date? Yay or nay?”

“I…why are you-?”

Shane just shrugs and Ryan puts down his half-finished slice. He grabs some napkins and wipes at his hands and mouth, “I don’t know, man. I mean…kinda? It’s just-? I mean, you yourself have sorta played and danced around with it, but you’ve never out right said exactly what you want. And-and despite what we-we did, ah, together, y’know – being-being all-?”

“You’re talking about when I sucked you off?” Shane returns and ah, there’s the blush he adores, “Yes, _that_. Despite that, we never like, said, ‘hey, we’re boyfriends now’.”

“Is that what you want?” Shane asks softly, “Do you want me to be your boyfriend?”

“I,” Ryan lets it hang there a second, “I mean; we’re not in high school. Boyfriend is such a…”

“What would you prefer?” Shane edges closer, eyes locked with Ryan’s and he brushes at his cheek, “Would you like lover?”

“Um…”

“Fuck buddy?” his eyes zero in on Ryan’s mouth.

“Ah…”

“Claimed?”

A notch forms between Ryan’s eyebrows, “Claimed?”

“‘S what we call it. Before you bond someone, you usually claim them first.”

“I…don’t want you to own me…”

“Ryan, Ryan,” Shane murmurs and he moves ever closer, “I could _never_ own you. I wouldn’t want to. But, if you’re open to giving me some of yourself, even a little bit…”

His eyes move from Ryan’s lips to his eyes, “I’d consider myself honored.”

“Ohhhh, you son of a bi-!”Ryan grabs Shane’s shirt collar and tugs him forward, knocking over the popcorn in his haste to have Shane close, to kiss him. Yellow kernels spill all over the carpet and the game rages on in the background as the two start kissing with unrestrained passion.

Shane easily ushers Ryan back on to the couch cushions and beneath him and it’s just like it was that night. A hot, steady make out session. Ryan’s lips peel from his just long enough to breath hot against his skin, “Bastard. You’re cleaning that up.”

Shane hums in agreement as he could honestly care less about the spilled popcorn right now. All he cares about is Ryan’s taunt, strong body under his. The muscles and the weight and warmth of it makes his dick twitch, but he ignores it, only wanting to focus on Ryan’s mouth. God, his _mouth_. It’s moist and sweet and the sounds he can wring from it drive him wild.

His tongue tangles with Ryan's, they move wet and slick against one another, searching and exploring and his hands grip Ryan’s sides. He pushes his shirt up some because he needs skin. He needs to touch and to feel and Ryan, he just needs _Ryan_. He’s so goddamn responsive and pure and _fuck_ , he keeps making these whining keens.

They tear right through Shane’s senses and the bond pulses strong between them, throbs with want and desire and it’s right there, right on the razor’s edge. The blur of emotions – of arousal and hunger and Shane’s hips rut against Ryan’s and Ryan gasps, head knocking back and yes, _yes_ , exposed throat. Nice.

Shane’s teeth nip at the curve, tease down to where neck meets shoulder and bites. Hard. Harder than he should and he tries to calm down, but Jesus, this is so good and _Ryan likes it_. He knows he likes it, because Ryan moans. It’s a deep, heartfelt sound and he arches up into Shane’s teeth. His _fangs_ and shit, shit.

Shane retracts them, not wanting to break skin but damn if Ryan is making it hard for him to keep his human form. His horns are trying to sneak out and his tail is emerging, but he focuses on pushing them back because normal, _normal_ – this night is supposed to be _normal_.

No supernatural shit. Just them, just this. He captures Ryan’s lips again and his hands go between Ryan’s legs only for Ryan to turn away, to shake his head, “Wait, no…”

The ‘no’ stops Shane cold, “What?”

Ryan just sighs and Shane feels awful, “Did I do something wrong? If I did-?”

“It’s not that,” Ryan manages on a wispy gasp, “Not that at all. Just…we-we don’t have to do anything sexual, you know?”

Shane looks at him and Ryan comes across as shy, “It’s just-? We can just kiss. You don’t-don’t have to do anything with me you don’t want to.”

“Who says I don’t want to?”

“No one, I’m-?” Ryan rubs at his face, “Fuck, can’t believe I’m saying this, but – you asked me to give you some of myself and I…I want the same, you know?”

“You…” Shane frowns, “You don’t think I’m giving myself to you?”

“I think you’re a surprising people pleaser and one of the ways you like to please is with sex and you don’t…you don’t have to do that with me,” Ryan offers gently, “You can spend time with me, kiss me. If…if we’re gonna be, y’know, ah…boyfriends…”

“So, you _did_ decide on boyfriends? You made it sound like that was too juvenile.”

Ryan doesn’t rise to the bait, “My point is, sex isn’t a requirement.”

“No sex then?”

“Not right now. But sometimes…”

Shane looks thoughtful, “I’ll admit…it’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship. Of any kind. You were my first friend in a long time and as for romance…demons aren’t big on romance. We tend to run very strongly sexual.”

“Big surprise.”

“I know, right?” they both grin at one another and Shane drops a kiss on Ryan’s collarbone, “But yeah, I’ve given other demons crap for it, but I fall under the same trap. When I’m with someone, when they open the door – I run hot. I provide what they tend to want and that always tends to be sex.”

“Mothman not much for cuddling?”

“Never was with him.”

“Chupacabra?”

“Sex and nothing but,” Shane beams, “It – ah, was short lived.”

“Yeah, see, that’s the thing,” Ryan brushes his fingers along Shane’s face, “If…if we do this. I-I don’t want it to be short lived.”

“Christ,” Shane grumbles and he takes Ryan’s hand in his, tugs it to his mouth for a kiss, “You’re going to _make_ me a romantic, aren’t you? Turn me all goddamn mushy.”

“Hey, you’re no better. Look what you’ve done to me,” Ryan returns and he tugs Shane close, kisses him again. It’s nice. It’s pure and sweet this time. No rush, no overly heated meeting. Just nice, warm kisses. A slowly kindling fire that eventually settles with Shane falling on Ryan and saying sleepily, “Now fer the best romantic cliché of all.”

Ryan just makes a questioning sound and Shane presses one ear over Ryan’s heart, listens to its strong and steady beat until he falls asleep, his last waking thought about how this is one of the best nights of his life. Funny really, because while he doesn’t know it yet, it’s about to be followed by his worst.


	16. Chapter 16

Ryan flips through all of his notes and chews on his thumbnail. Shane sits across from him, playing with his phone and frowning, “You done yet?”

“No.”

Five minutes pass.

“How about now?”

“Nope.”

Five seconds.

“Now?”

“Agh! You-you _just_ asked, Shane!”

“Well, you’re taking forever,” Shane moans and he nearly melts over the kitchen table. They’re sitting in Shane’s apartment, the place they decided would be best to investigate the Void. The place where they decided to come up with their plan of attack. Or rather, _Ryan’s_ plan. When he suggested it, Shane just laughed and brought out big sheaves of paper and crayons.

“If you want to go all ‘Home Alone’ on it, you may as well go all out,” he’d said and Ryan made sure to chuck some of the crayons _at_ him. They have to have a plan for this! They can’t just go in blind. Up until now, they’ve just let the Void come to them. Well, no more. This time they’re going to do the legwork. So Ryan’s looking through the journal he’s been compiling since all this started.

A lot of it is scribbles and questions but he’s hoping he can find something worthwhile, something he’s observed that will help. Since most of the supernatural don’t believe in Voids, there’s not a lot of information about them in any literature – whether mortal or non. As such, Ryan has to go off what he’s seen so far. This is a problem because, as far as he can tell, there’s no pattern.

The Void shows up – attacks them, scares him. That’s it. The end. But there has to be more to it! They know it’s motivation, but not much else. There’s got to be something they’re missing, some key to luring it out. And then? Well, Ryan’s still working that bit out too. Shane looks at him thoughtfully, “You need a shave.”

“Huh?”

Shane points to his face and Ryan runs a hand over it, “Oh. Yeah. I’ll do it. Just…been busy.”

“Don’t want my smooches too scratchy,” is the grumbled response and Ryan rolls his eyes. God – is he really serious about dating _Shane_? What a horrible decision. Honestly, the worst. But then Shane eases closer, “It _is_ kinda hot though. Makes you look rugged.”

Ryan tells himself the heat prickling under his skin is easy to ignore.

“Masculine,” Shane’s voice has taken on a _purr_.

The heat grows…noticeable. Ryan rubs at the back of his neck and re-reads the same sentence.

“Like you’re this manly man who comes along and scoops me up, throws me down on your bed and…”

“I’m trying to read,” Ryan wishes his voice wouldn’t crack when he says this. Shane just laughs and goddamn it. Ryan puts down the book and leans his head back over his chair, “Fuuuuck. This is hopeless! We tout ourselves as ghost hunters, but when it comes to _actual_ ghost hunting-!”

“The Void isn’t a ghost, Ry.”

“Yeah, but I should be able to hunt it somehow!”

“Eh, I think of us more as paranormal investigators and you _are_ investigating it, so you’re doing just fine. It’s simply that we don’t have enough information to go on.”

Ryan raises his head so he can look at him with narrowed eyes, “We _do_ have information to go on! Plenty of it, but none of it’s helpful.”

Shane looks skeptical, “What do we got?”

“Well, we know it’s an amalgam of the two feral demons you killed. Or better to say their energies. That energy went to you – took on some of your traits and then passed to me. But I only took enough of it to heal and rejected the rest, so now it’s out there – growing more powerful and menacing by the second. It wants to consume me and then – fuck, I don’t know what.”

“I do,” Shane sighs and Ryan looks at him patiently. When he gets no quick answer he snaps, “Well?”

“Raziel told me after you stormed off. Apparently it ties into that prophecy bullshit. It’s going to go out and slaughter my cabal.”

“Your-?”

“Demons tend to run in packs. Fallen angel ones even more so. I’m the oddball who broke the mold. I kept the name, but dumped the rest.”

“The-?”

“Madej,” Shane explains, “It was chosen long ago. Hell, a lot of them dropped that, but they’re still part of the cabal. You don’t leave a cabal. It’s like angels and their legions. Once you’re in, you’re in.”

“So…like family?”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” Shane sneers, “Cabals aren’t nice.”

“So…like a _crime_ family?”

“Fine, I’ll give you that one.”

Ryan rubs at his bottom lip, “Okay, okay. Well, _that’s_ interesting. Wish you’d told me that before now.”

“Again, you stormed off.”

“This from the guy who pulled a Bilbo from Fellowship?”

“Ryan, what on earth-?”

“ _That’s not my name_!” Ryan says it in this whiny, flipped out tone, throwing his hands about, “You were like Bilbo in that scene when he sees the ring again. All squinty eyes and fangs and _hissing_!”

“It-It wasn’t quite like-!”

“That’s like, the one scene in the theater where everyone jumped. No one expected him to go all wild eyed. That’s what you did in Raziel’s office when he brought up your old name.”

Shane crosses his arms and looks put out but doesn’t deny it, because he really can’t. But that’s neither here or there as far as Ryan is concerned, “What else did Raz say?”

Shane’s whole face twitches, “Nothing much.”

“Shane.”

“Ryan.”

“Come on, man – you promised if it’s about me, you’d tell me.”

Shane looks like he’s swallowed a lemon whole, “I know, but it’s more than that. I hate to tell you about it, ‘cause it paints dear old dad in a bad light. And you know what they say – the three things you should never talk about are sex, politics, and religion.”

“You’re-? What? Worried you’ll offend my religious sensibilities?”

He shrugs, “We’ve never really talked about it. Again – the three things.”

“Okay,” Ryan starts cautiously, “But in this case, you have inside information that’s important so, y’know, even if it warps my view or whatever, I need to hear it.”

“Alright, fine,” Shane sighs unhappily and hunches forward in his chair, “God wants the Void to take a host.”

Ryan looks stunned, “Holy crap! You’re saying he _wants_ me to be consumed? To-to be a host to that?”

“Not necessarily you,” Shane says crisply and Ryan looks confused for only a second, “You? It could take you instead?”

Another shrug, “It went to me first, you second. Either of us is a suitable host. Or a potential third party could take it but, keep in mind, if we introduce _that_ possibility we’re talking about taking a lamb to slaughter. I mean, I might talk a big game, but I’m not really big on premeditated murder.”

Ryan frowns, “Is it _really_ murder?”

“ _Ryan_!” Shane sounds so scandalized Ryan can’t help but laugh and Shane presses a hand to his chest, sitting up, “I don’t believe you could be so heartless! Is that you, Ricky Goldsworth? Have you inhabited my boyfriend?”

The tips of Ryan’s ears and the apples of his cheeks warm at ‘boyfriend’, but he continues gamely, “Maybe. What’re you gonna do about it, string bean?”

“Oh my!” Shane gasps like an overwhelmed elderly woman and Ryan almost breaks character (almost), “Someone oughta put you in your place.”

“Ha!” Shane manages, but it’s kinda shaky and Ryan can feel through the bond (excitement, arousal) his reaction to Ricky, “You-you don’t have the stones!”

“Ohhh,” Ryan eases closer to him, “You’ve got a smart mouth, huh? How’s about I shut it for you?”

The kiss is a given, but Shane’s response is a little more than Ryan anticipated. He’s shaking and whimpers some and shit, he’s really into this. Role play, huh? Who knew? But then he’s learning more and more about Shane the Boyfriend versus Shane the Best Friend each day. Shane the Boyfriend is surprisingly very handsy and cuddly and now, apparently, very into Ryan playing pretend.

And Ryan? Apparently he’s into playing pretend too. He imagines how Ricky would kiss and kisses Shane like that. Hard and rough, making sure his stubble scratches since Shane whined about scratchy kisses. But Shane is clearly into it, moaning openly and _oh_ – they’re not going to get anything done if he doesn’t stop. Ryan draws back and Shane’s eyes are heavy lidded and glassy.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck – no, no. _Focus_.

Ryan swallows and mumbles, “Didn’t answer my question.”

Shane blinks, still confused and clearly stupid/horny, “Huh?”

“Is it really murder? Offering someone else up to the Void?”

Shane licks his lips and bites them and he’s still looking at Ryan’s mouth and maybe he thinks he’s still playing at Ricky, so Ryan says smartly, “Like – say we found someone awful or something…”

His less than confident tone must finally break the spell, because Shane rubs at his face and breathes out loudly, “No, Ryan. Just. No. Even if we found the most wretched person on earth, I still don’t think we should make the conscious decision to let the Void consume them. Hell, that could be worse. A bad person might really run with it. Take out my cabal, do something worse after. I mean, granted, my take is that once the Void is done wiping out the Madej line God’s gonna send in a smite team, but-”

“Why doesn’t God just smite your cabal himself?”

“Ryan,” Shane gives him a look, “You’re giving him too much credit.”

“Yeah, but if he’s all powerful-!”

“Again, greatest gaslighter of all time,” Shane mutters, “Like I told you, he and science go hand in hand. I imagine he has a limit, but – much as I hate to say it, I’ve never seen it. And even if he _doesn’t_ , even if he’s omniscient and almighty he’s still just…”

His words die off but his distaste is clear. Ryan can’t help himself, “A bad father?”

“Ha! The first and worst,” is the brittle response and Ryan hates the pain on his boyfriend’s face. They probably should have just kept kissing. Nothing like the beginning of a new relationship – that rampant desire to have your hands and lips all over one another, the heady drive of it.

But they have this thing looming over them and Ryan wants it resolved. He wants it dealt with so he can focus on the relationship, “Okay, so, the prophecy pretty much boils down to you or me hosting the Void, the Void wiping out your cabal, and then God sending in angels to murk whoever after all is said and done?”

“Seems like,” Shane scratches at one of his eyebrows, “I mean, I’ve never heard it, but from what we’ve been told that sounds the most logical.”

Ryan looks thoughtful, “If we could get our hands on it…”

“Not likely _and_ not helpful,” Shane volleys back, “First, because prophesies are locked up tight. Even with the level I’m at now, they won’t let me get my hands on it. Especially since it involves me. Second, Alys probably won’t check into the spirit guide again – think they did that just to push us along, seeing as they’d want their precious vision fulfilled. Third, it doesn’t really help. Knowing it word for word won’t stop the Void and that’s what we want.”

“Okay, but then how do we stop it?”

“We’ve got the grace. I think it’s our best shot. Raz said it wouldn’t work, but Raz is also a notorious liar.”

“I see,” Ryan shoots him a look, “So that’s – what? An angel trait? Fallen or no? Being a liar?”

“It’s an _everybody_ trait, Ryan. I’ve just been guiltier of it than most. Especially lately.”

“Yeah, good thing you’re not Pinocchio – your nose would’ve taken out one of my eyes by now.”

“Might still do that. You see this thing?” Shane pokes one side of his nose and Ryan laughs. They fall into a companionable silence as Ryan checks his notes again. Still nothing stands out. He sighs and leans back in his chair, “Okay, okay. Let’s think. We can try the grace. That’s not a problem. But we have to find the Void or lure it some place. How are we going do that?”

Shane stares off into the middle distance as he thinks hard, “When it first came to you, it was in the restroom at work, right?”

“Yeah, in the mirror.”

“Where did you see it the second time?”

“The parking lot of your apartment complex,” Ryan says and at Shane’s ‘uh huh’, he finds himself continuing along the same train of thought, “Then it was in the mirror again in my car, then in my bedroom, and the last was at the Lot.”

“So what do these places have in common?”

“Christ, I don’t know! Nothing!” Ryan grunts and gets to his feet, starts pacing as he tries to work this out because Shane’s idea isn’t a bad one.

Why those places?

Why always Ryan?

Well, the second question is easy. Shane shoved it on him, so it wants Ryan. Even if it’ll take Shane, it was pointed specifically _at_ Ryan, so it clearly thinks Ryan is its intended host. But Ryan’s been resistant – obviously. And Shane’s interfered, twice now – so it hasn’t managed to ‘settle’ in and god knows Ryan isn’t going to invite it in either.

The first question is harder. True, it’s zeroed in on Ryan, so it makes sense it would follow him, but why did it try to attack in those spots? Ryan thinks and thinks and when it comes to him it’s almost like a lightbulb goes off over his head, “Vulnerable.”

“What?”

Ryan snaps his fingers, “All those places, all the spots where the Void fucked with me – I was vulnerable. Think about it – the bathroom? We’re all vulnerable there, what with our, y’know, bits out-”

Shane can’t help but wheeze at ‘bits’ but Ryan’s on a roll now, “-and the parking lot. It was night out, I was outdoors, exposed. My car - I’d just finished driving, been in traffic, and I was angry and uneasy and just-just weak minded. My room, I was almost asleep and the Lot – I died there and then you went in to kiss me-”

Shane gets to his feet and smacks a hand on the table, “You’re guard was down!”

“Exactly!” Ryan agrees, “It shows up when I’m vulnerable. When it thinks I’ll slip up and let it in.”

“Shoot, you’ve got something there, Bergara.”

Ryan sniffs, pleased, “What can I say? Keen detective mind here.”

“Okay, maybe don’t flatter yourself too much,” Shane argues but he’s grinning, “You still haven’t figured out how this is going help us.”

“Easy, we just have to go somewhere I’m vulnerable,” Ryan supplies, “And that won’t be hard.”

“Oh?”

Ryan nods, “We’ve just got to go someplace haunted.”

 

+

Of course it’s night.

It’s _always_ night when they do this, albeit the ‘this’ being somewhat different from the norm. But yes, when they go to haunted locations, it’s always night. Night works best though, especially for this, and Shane’s been gripping the vial of grace hard the whole way here. Ryan drove and talked and Shane answers him as best he can but his heart’s pounding, his throat tight and it’s funny, _Ryan’s_ supposed to be the vulnerable one here, not Shane.

But Shane knows what’s coming or what _might_ be coming and it’s…it’s hard to fathom. Jesus, what if he fucks this up? What if it all goes wrong? What if he’s not strong enough or brave enough or…

It’s just so, so hard. Staring something like this in the face. It’s a monstrous thing, a terrible stage fright. So he does his best to ignore it, gulping to try and bring moisture back into his mouth, “So I spoke with Malthazor earlier. Got the place all cleared out.”

“Really?”

Shane nods, “Yeah, wasn’t hard. Couple of witches dropped a temporary veil here. No one should see us, no problems with the public.”

“Cool, cool,” Ryan sucks his teeth as he pulls his car to a stop, “cool.”

Ryan’s nervous. Of course he is. It’s night and they’re at a place that’s commonly known to have supernatural occurrences. The only difference this time is that _Shane’s_ nervous too. He picked this spot because he knew it had to be some place legitimate. Some place where people _actually_ died.

Ryan parks and gets out and Shane follows suit and they look up. Up to see the Colorado Street Bridge looming before them. Suicide Bridge. Shane huffs and it’s the world’s weakest laugh. Perfect. Just perfect. He hugs the vial tighter, “You know the history on this place?”

“Yup.”

“Want…want to tell it to me in theory voice?” Shane offers breathlessly, “C’mon. For old time’s sake?”

Ryan lets out his own pitiful chuckle, “Yeah, I guess. This bridge was built in 1912; locals call it ‘Suicide Bridge’. Lots of paranormal activity has been reported…”

He trails off like he can’t continue and Shane looks at him, “That’s it?”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m not feeling it,” Ryan whispers, “Sorry.”

Shane pats one of his elbows, “Hey, it’s okay, buddy. I gotcha.”

“Just,” Ryan walks around, walks near the bridge’s structure with heavy, dreading steps, “Just wondering how we came to this. That’s all.”

“Look, Ryan,” Shane comes closer; “We’re the ghoul boys. We’ve got this.”

Out of all the lies Shane’s told – this one is the biggest.

But Ryan seems heartened by it and Shane grips to that. He looks in his face and moonlight is spilling over it and Ryan’s so handsome. So handsome and sweet and his best friend. Shane gives him a quick kiss and ignores how his eyes have started to burn, “Now come on. Tell me some of the creepy stuff that’s happened here, huh?”

Ryan laughs, “Shouldn’t I be asking you?”

“What? You think I know?”

“You know ghosts are real,” Ryan replies confidently, “Maybe there are some here? Some tethered ones? Maybe I can see them now. You know, now that I know the truth.”

“You don’t know shit,” Shane says and his stomach feels full, sick, he ignores it to smile instead, “For all you know, big, dark and cloudy won’t even show.”

“Oh, he’ll show,” Ryan laughs and he looks more jittery than Shane’s ever seen him, “Trust me.”

“Maybe the ghosts’ll stop him. Or would, you know, if they were real.”

“You-! Oh my god!” Ryan laughs now and it’s genuine. It breaks Shane’s heart, “I can’t believe you’d even-! Just say it, dude!”

“I told you, I’ll never say…” Shane trails off and he looks up under the bridge. Ryan’s good humor drops away in an instant and he looks up too. Shadows. There are shadows up under the bridge. But they appear normal. Unmoving. Still, Ryan shivers, “How’s-? How’s about we just leave, huh, big guy? We can just go home and-!”

“ _No_ ,” Shane has to wrench the word out, “No. We… _I_ started this. Have to finish it.”

“Shane…”

“Come on,” Shane murmurs and hands Ryan the vial of grace. Once he takes it Shane reaches into his jacket and draws out the Pisadeira’s nail. Their plan of attack is simple. The Void comes out to go after Ryan, much like it did at the Lot but instead of tackling it, Shane will hit it with the nail, freezing it in place so Ryan can douse it with the grace.

It’s a good plan. A solid plan.

There were some questions. Will the nail strike something solid? Can Ryan get in and out in time? They worried over them and talked about them, but the finally consensuses was that they have to try. This is their plan. This is it. If this fails? Ah, if this fails…

Shane taps the nail idly against one of his legs as he starts walking again. Ryan catches up to him and they continue until they’re directly under the bridge. It’s a shadowy old structure and in some ways Shane’s glad he’s chosen this place.

This is how his and Ryan’s friendship truly started. Coming to places like this. True, TJ’s not recording them. They’ll be no editing of videos, adjusting of sound. They’ll be no post mortem wrap up vid. But this feels right. This feels like-like how it _should_ happen.

He’s lucky in a way. Most people don’t get this kind of choice. And demons? Demons never do. Mainly because none of them would have the balls to do this, to dive unblinking right into the belly of the beast and _please, please father, for once fucking listen to me and let me do this right._

Shane almost laughs aloud. Good god, did he just pray? He hasn’t prayed in…shit, there’s no way to even measure it. It’s been that goddamn long. But if there’s any time to pray, it’s now.

Their footsteps echo and when you look up, it’s kind of beautiful. The black sky, the pin dots of stars, the underside of this concrete archway like a cathedral. Shane’s so lost to it that at first he doesn’t catch the whispering sound. But then it grows in intensity, like wind whipping up for a big storm and he looks at Ryan who gives him a curt nod.

An unearthly howl erupts as the Void drops from the underside of the bridge and forms in front of them, in front of Ryan. The last time they saw it, it had taken on something of a human visage, but its face had been unrecognizable.

Not this time.

This time it carries Ryan’s face again, but the smile is unnatural. Too many teeth, lips stretched at odd angles. The eyes glow red and the fingers are long and curved; thin save for the thick lumpy knuckles that twist as it points right at Ryan. It moves its head, twitching it from side to side but too rapidly, and Ryan watches it with unblinking horror. He doesn’t move and Shane’s never been more proud.

The Void is so fixated on Ryan that Shane moves easily enough. He side steps it, carefully comes around behind it and the Void’s head moves more, does a goddamn Linda Blair in Exorcist, turning a 360. Really? So, fucking cliché. But what’s _not_ cliché is watching the face melt. It’s like it catches fire, shifting, shifting, ever shifting and then becoming _Shane’s_ face.

Shane looks into his own face within the Void and now he doesn’t have any problem at all swinging the nail out. It catches nothing but air and the Void turns fully to him, deformed hands reaching for him. Shane tries again, slashing at one of the creature’s palms. This time it strikes something. The Void stops, frozen in place and Ryan takes his shot.

He tosses the vial of grace down hard, right center mass of the thing. There’s the sound of glass breaking and then bluish white light erupts, letting out a glorious sound even as it intertwines with the shadowy being. The Void lets out a horrific wail, its face changing again and this face…

Shane looks away from it, tries not to remember it, hopes he _never_ sees it again, because he’s pretty sure a face like that can break someone’s sanity. No doubt it was the Void’s _true_ face. A face that’s gone when next he looks because the grace appears to be winning. Light is bursting from everywhere, blinding bright light and he moves back over towards Ryan.

The two stand there, watching, and at some point their hands meet, fingers threading together. They watch as the light swirls through the darkness. Ryan looks at him, face open, voice hopeful, “Shane?”

He doesn’t respond, not sure how to. He just squeezes Ryan’s hand and looks at his face, the white light washing over it. Ryan’s never looked more like the sun. Blinding, beautiful.

And then a shadow falls over it.

Shane swallows and turns back. The light is dimming. It’s being tucked away, drawn deeper into the darkness. It’s like watching evening settle in, the sun heavy and pregnant as it drops behind the skyline, welcoming the night. He turns back to see Ryan’s whole expression collapse. Shane blinks and sighs and lets Ryan’s hand go. He runs that same hand through his hair and closes his eyes.

“ _No_ ,” Ryan moans, “No, no, man! Come on, _come on_!”

Shane breathes in deep, clutches the nail tighter, his palms sweating.

“COME ON! THIS-!” Ryan tugs at his hair, growls at what’s happening before him, the storm of black clouds overcoming the light, “This is BULLSHIT!”

“Ryan…” Shane says his name so softly it’s almost inaudible.

“It was working! Goddamn it – _it was working_!”

“Ryan…”

“That’s fine, that’s fine,” Ryan’s rambling now, breathless as he speaks, as he trembles, “It’s fine. We’re fine. The Void is still frozen, still – still adjusting so we just – we just bail, right?”

“Ryan…” he tries again but Ryan isn’t listening, “Yeah, this was the plan. We’ll get back to the car and go, we’ll just go. It disappeared the last time we fought back, it’ll do that again. We know how to summon it now, and next time we’ll have a better plan. There has to be something we can do, something we haven’t thought of. Maybe we can get-get someone to take it and like, exorcism them or-or-“

“Hey, Ryan,” Shane tries again but Ryan’s hysterical, he’s rubbing at his temples and looks seconds away from a breakdown and Shane doesn’t want to do this, but he knows this is the only way. He makes his voice harsh, “ _Ryan_.”

It’s the same tone he used that first time – what feels like a lifetime ago – at the Lot. The one he’d used to warn Ryan about the seriousness of the lights, of the incoming demons. Of Grasolib and Hazothor, and Jesus, who knew their destruction would form this? Who knew their combined energies would make the Void before them. Not that it matters. Nothing does.

Ryan turns to him and Shane looks at him, smiling weakly “I have to tell you something.”

The sound of Ryan dragging in just one breath is deafening.

“Ghosts are real.”

Ryan blinks. His chin wobbles, “Wh-why are you saying that to me?”

Shane comes closer to Ryan who’s shaking his head wildly, his Adam’s apple convulsing as Shane draws him into an embrace. Ryan’s stiff in his arms, but Shane holds on, hot breath gusting along the top of his head as he says into his hair, “‘Cause if I’m gonna go out, I’m going out in a blaze of glory.”

A noise squeaks out of Ryan, Shane thinks it might be his name, he’ll never know. He scratches the nail along the heel of one of Ryan’s hands. Ryan goes stone solid. Shane draws back and looks him in the eyes, looks at his paralyzed friend and sighs, “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry, Ryan. But this is the way it’s going to have to be. We can’t keep fighting this thing. Like I said, everybody’s got their time, their place – this is mine.”

Shane’s surprised; he honestly thought he’d cry. But his eyes are dry, his voice steady as he murmurs, “I want to thank you, Ryan. You made me believe in so many things, things I thought I’d never believe in. Friendship, happiness, ghosts…” he chuckles at that one but it’s short lived, the sound not quite working at the moment.

“And, y’know, love. Said I’d never believe in that, but,” he shrugs, “Here we are.”

Ryan can say nothing, do nothing – only watch, only listen.

Shane takes Ryan’s face in his hands, “I’ve lost so many things in my life, but I’ll miss you the most.”

He presses a firm kiss to the center of Ryan’s forehead and then draws back, lips twitching as if to smile, “See you around, pal.”

He sniffs and turns and the light is completely gone now. The Void is emerging from its fight triumphant and Shane just glares at it, “HEY! Hey, you overgrown cloud of nicotine smoke!”

The Void turns on him and Shane strolls up oh, so casually. He opens his arms wide, “How’s about you come over here and rip my eyeballs out or remove my skeleton or whatever the fuck you’re going to do to me!”

The Void hunches down and its face is Shane’s again. Shane looks right into its (his) eyes, unblinking, bravado in place, “Come on, man – this is a free ride! I’m inviting you in! Play with me like a string puppet, mess me up!”

The Void slithers closers and Shane lets his eyes slide closed, “I won’t reject you this time. I promise.”

With that, the Void swarms around him, swallowing him whole.

 

+

 

Ryan’s paralysis breaks.

He turns and watches the tail end of Shane being engulfed in the shadows of the Void. It dissipates all too soon and then it’s just Shane _standing_ there. For a second. Then he hunches forward, falling to his hands and knees. His long fingers dig deep into the gritty dirt beneath the bridge, dragging long furrows as they change.

Bones snap, the back of his hands twisting unnaturally as his claws emerge. The bright red of them slowly morphs, changing color as he lets out a barrel chested grunt. His horns and tail also appear, bright red but for a moment before they too succumb to the change. The red just bleeds away, the veins beneath becoming horribly visible. They surge with a deep midnight blue, close to pitch black, until eventually that’s the only color visible.

It’s as if the red is burning flames that have finally given out, succumbing to ash and dust. His back bends, bows, more horrific snaps filling the air as his wings emerge. They come slowly, twitching as they change to match everything else. He slowly rises to a crouch, turning to face Ryan, and Ryan’s breath halts, heart stopping dead cold in his chest as Shane looks at him, his eyes red as blood.

And the look on his face…

It’s empty. Emotionless. It’s like he doesn’t even see Ryan at all. It’s as if he’s devoid of any discernable thought. Save one. His shoulders make the slightest movement and his wings expand to their massive full length, the leathery sound echoing loudly before they push up and out, propelling him upwards. And then he’s just – he’s _gone_.

He flies off so smoothly, so quickly, that Ryan can only stand there open mouthed as he leaves. He _leaves_ …

“Shane?” Ryan asks the question in the world’s smallest voice. As if his friend is still right there. As if he can hear him. But he’s gone. Shane’s _gone_. Ryan just looks up into the dark, endless night sky and there’s nothing. Just…nothing’s there.

And then a sound rumbles in the distance, like thunder rolling through clouds, but there are no clouds. Ryan doesn’t react to it at first, but then there’s a softer noise, and he knows he’s not alone anymore. He turns and Raziel is there. Raziel looks off in the same direction Shane left in. He puts his hands in the pockets of his suit and rocks a little on his heels, “Wow. He did it.”

Ryan says nothing. Too shocked. Too numb.

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t think he would,” Raziel's hands re-emerge as he uses one to scratch under his chin, “I’ve said it before, but, it’s not in the nature of a demon to be self-sacrificing. I suppose I underestimated him.”

He looks thoughtfully at Ryan, “I underestimated his feelings for you.”

Ryan just blinks.

Raziel gives a one shouldered shrug, “But, if he can do the right thing, I can as well. After all, I do keep my word.”

He lifts one hand and Ryan gasps; trips forward. He watches in horror as blue light emerges from him. The light eases towards Raziel and he curls his long fingers around it the way one would play with trails of smoke. But then he tugs forward lightly and the light – _snaps_. It snaps and Ryan _feels_ it. It’s indescribable, the feeling. It’s not physical pain or emotional pain, but something of both and Ryan finds his voice, “What did you do?”

“The bond is broken, my promise kept,” the angel says simply. Ryan’s throat works even though he feels like there’s a fist around it and his eyes are nothing but water as he whispers, “I don’t feel him anymore. I don’t…I don’t feel anything…”

Between one blink and the next, Raziel is gone and, once more, Ryan is alone.


	17. Chapter 17

The very moment the DMV unlocks its doors for opening, Ryan comes storming through. Judy rises up from behind her desk, wide eyed, “Mr. Bergara? What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t respond to her, he just keeps walking. He charges right up to the door that will lead to Malthazor’s office and tugs on it. It doesn’t open. It’s stubbornly sealed and he hisses out. He turns to look over one shoulder and Judy is pulling the most sympathetic face, the red phone to her ear. She’s talking to someone and he’s seconds away from charging over when she just nods at him.

He tries the door again and this time it opens easily. Ryan marches right down to where Malthazor’s office is. The demon is clearly in the process of packing. Boxes are littered everywhere, although his desk is _still_ a mess. He’s tugging on his tie and laughing into his cell phone when Ryan fills the doorway, “Where is he?”

Malthazor stops mid laugh and looks completely floored, dark eyes widening, “M-Mr. Bergara? Oh, uh. Wow. Didn’t-didn’t think I’d see you again. What are you-?”

Ryan slams the door shut behind him and proceeds to knock absolutely everything off Malthazor’s desk. Papers, pens, and files go flying everywhere, as well as other random items. One of which Malthazor cries out for, “NO! Not my sandwich! It was still good, dammit!”

The only thing that stays in place is the phone and the computer, but Ryan looks seconds from trashing those as well. His nostrils flaring, eyes alight with anger. Malthazor mutters sheepishly into his cell, “Nathalgrub? Yeah, I’ll-I’ll call you back, ‘kay? Bye.”

He hangs up the cell and Ryan draws out a colorful pistol, “Where is he?”

Malthazor’s hands are raised, cell still clutched in one, but he eyes the gun, “Is-Is that a plastic water gun?”

Ryan’s finger tightens on the trigger, “I won’t ask again.”

“O-Okay, look, Mr. Bergara, I take it you’re upset that – _ARGH_!” Malthazor cries as he’s shot in the face with a stream of holy water. The moment the water meets his skin it bubbles, steam hitting the air and Malthazor covers his face as best he can, crying out, “ _AH_! FUCK! That-! That _STINGS_! What the fuck-?!”

Ryan kicks out at his desk, making the big piece of furniture tremble nosily, “Answer me!”

“Alright, alright! Jesus! Just-just lower the gun! There’s-there’s no need for this level of violence!”

Ryan doesn’t lower the gun, just gives Malthazor a look that suggests his reaction is a little over the top. Or that he should try to have a spine. Maybe both. Either way Malthazor lowers his hands and his face has a few nicks and abrasions, “Man, you brought holy water?! Into my office! In a _child’s_ toy! I mean, honestly, what the living hell?!”

He touches his face gingerly, “You don’t see me storming into the Buzzfeed offices and shooting lemon juice in your eyes! You know why? Because I have tact and respect for your profession and-!”

Ryan readjusts his grip on the gun, points it a little lower and, realizing the kind of shot he might be lining up, Malthazor immediately covers his crotch, “HEY! NO! Wait, wait, wait! C-Come on, guy, just-just give me a minute!”

“You’ve had several,” Ryan snaps, “Answer the goddamn question!”

“The ques-?”

“ _Where is he_?”

“Wh-?” Malthazor starts and at Ryan’s murderous glare he snaps his fingers, “OH! Ah! Yes, you-you mean your ex-bond-,” Malthazor starts but sees the finger trigger getting twitchy again and amends himself, “-your _totally_ current bondmate, Mr. Madej! You’re-you’re looking for him!”

Ryan doesn’t nod, doesn’t speak, his jaw working and Malthazor continues to grovel, “I see! Well, well – I’ll-I’ll admit to some-some surprise that you’d-you’d want to see him again. You know? I mean, humans aren’t really known for their loyalty. It’s not like they’re dogs. I mean, dogs, they’ll love you forever. See you through thick and thin. We have a lot of them in the Pit, we treat them very well. I’m sure you’ve heard of Cerberus and hell hounds and-!”

Ryan pulls the trigger again but this time makes sure to just shoot _near_ Malthazor. It’s enough to make the demon jump, “No! Argh! Right, sorry, sorry, you don’t-don’t want to hear my rambles. You just want….”

Malthazor lowers his hands some, pokes one finger in the direction of his computer, “I, um-? Can-can I use my computer to check?”

Ryan gives a curt nod and Malthazor finds his chair. He carefully draws it over and starts pounding away at the computer keyboard. He looks up nervously now and then, eyeing the gun. Ryan looks around his office, “You moving?”

Malthazor focuses on the computer screen, “What? Oh, yes. Yeah. Um, I-I got a promotion.”

Ryan’s eyes narrow on him and Malthazor tugs at his collar, sweat forming as Ryan asks, “How?”

“H-hard…hard work?”

Ryan looks unconvinced. Malthazor sighs, “Look, if-if I tell you…will you promise not to shoot me with that thing again? Honestly, it-it _burns_.”

Guilt flickers across Ryan’s face and he lets out a heavy breath, nodding as he lowers the gun. Malthazor practically dissolves with relief, “Thank you. Now, um, it-it _could_ be that I kind of…knew about the prophecy? I mean, I _am_ Mr. Madej’s supernatural liaison. Or I became his liaison after his first ascension and his choosing to stay with me was a real treat, a real feather in my cap.”

The look of unhappiness on Ryan’s face makes Malthazor gulp and rush on, “Anyway, I felt it was important to look into my client some more and, in doing so, I uncovered his link to one of the great prophecies. There are several, but the one tied to him is _really_ fascinating. It’s pretty much about how a low level demon is going to rise to unspeakable power. I’m talking something past levels, past titles – a whole new iteration altogether and it’s-I mean, it’s just-!”

The demon is visibly giddy at the idea, “This is an exciting time is what I’m trying to say. Mr. Madej’s continued ascension has been a very good thing for me, I mean the bragging rights alone are-!” he cuts off that train of thought as Ryan draws the gun back up, changing to, “But-but you don’t care about that! That’s not important right now! That’s-! Yeah, yeah! Let’s just focus, shall we? Find your friend?”

Malthazor returns his attention to the computer and his typing draws to a halt. He gulps and rubs at the back of his neck, “Oh. Uh. Geez. Well, ah, he’s-he’s working awful fast, isn’t he?”

“What do you mean?” Ryan comes around the desk to look at the computer screen. Malthazor hunches in on himself, clearly still frightened at the prospect of upsetting the holy-water-gun wielding human, “There-there are about one hundred and sixty members of the Madej cabal. That’s actual a very small number for a cabal. Most cabals number in the thousands and…”

Realizing he’s going to ramble again, Malthazor stops himself, starts again, “Regardless! It _was_ registered as one hundred and sixty and now it’s…dropping. Drastically.”

“How drastically?”

“It’s - what? Been a _day_ since Mr. Madej’s transformation? Well, in that time he’s already taken out forty seven members. It looks like his plan of attack was to go to the Pit first. Take out the ones that were barred there. Pretty ballsy move – making challenges there – but he was successful. Guess having taken out ferals before made it easier. He’s moved back topside now – overseas it looks like and with the energy he’s collecting…”

Malthazor clicks a few more buttons and his lips screw up to one side, “Yeah, yeah. Got some notes here. Requisition orders from Clean Up. Looks like they’re pulling some double time over in Japan. Let’s see here…”

He rises up from his seat, blocking Ryan’s view as he clicks his mouse some. He takes a sudden intake of breath and clicks off his monitor. Ryan scowls at him, “What is it?”

Malthazor turns, face ashen, “There-there are pictures…”

“And?”

Malthazor eyes the gun. Ryan’s put it back in the holster on his hip, but it’s obvious the demon is worried he’ll draw it again. Malthazor twists on his feet, “They’re not pretty. I mean - for you. For me? I mean, as a demon? I think they’re rad. Does-does your kind still say that? ‘Rad’?”

Ryan’s face says he’s not going to dignify that with a response. Malthazor gulps again, “A-anyway, my-my point is…I mean, from-from what we’d all gathered around here, we…well, we figured we’d never see you again. I mean,” he lets out the world’s weakest string of laughter, “The-the bond is broken and Mr. Madej is going to be up to some nasty, nasty things…”

“The Void is,” Ryan corrects sharply, “It’s inside him and I’m going to get it out.”

“You’re-?” Malthazor’s looks beyond stunned. His mouth flaps uselessly for a while, gasping like a fish out of water. Ryan just nods, “I’m getting it out and I’m killing it. I’m getting him back.”

“Get-?” Malthazor’s ability to talk is temporarily suspended. But only temporarily, “Mr. Bergara, I think you misunderstand. The Void is _gone_. Mr. Madej absorbed it. It’s _part_ of him now. I…don’t think you’ll be able to get him back. At least…not the way he used to be. And-and even if you _did_ …”

Malthazor looks over his shoulder at the computer and it’s clear he’s remembering the pictures he just saw, “I mean, I don’t think you’d even _want_ him back.”

And that’s the last thing Malthazor should have said. Because Ryan practically leaps on him. He grabs the demon and shoves him back hard against his desk, pointing the barrel of the water gun right in his face, “Of course I’ll want him back! I _love_ him, you idiot!”

Ryan blinks then, blinks, and some of the tough exterior finally breaks. The gun lowers and his face is wretched. The words he’s just said…it’s the first time he’s thought them. Said them. Heard them. But they’re true and he repeats softly, “I love him…”

Malthazor’s hands are raised in self-defense but his nose wrinkles, “Ewww…”

Ryan shoots him a look and Malthazor tries again, “I mean, awwww?”

The way the demon says ‘aw’ shows he has never voiced such a sentiment, the sound of the word more like an eagle’s cry than a noise of approval. He draws it out until he ends with an exasperated grunt, “Yeah, look that’s-that’s not something a demon really deals with. Lust I get, sex I get – but the L-O-V-E word is just, it’s foreign to me. I’m surprised Mr. Madej could express it.”

Ryan lets him go, drawing back to put his gun away, “Well, he’s a fallen angel, so…”

“Is he?” Malthazor gasps, “Well, _that_ explains a lot. Not surprising it wasn’t in his notes. They tend to keep that sort of information highly classified. You’d be surprised the number of demons who look down on that kind of thing. Terrible amount of discrimination,” he winces, “Though, to be fair, that _does_ explain why he took so poorly to my remark about him shacking up with the Holy Legion a coupla weeks back. I mean, it was only a _joke_ , but.”

Malthazor ends there, not elaborating and frankly Ryan doesn’t want him to, “I’m going to find him, Mal. And you’re going to help me.”

“I am?” Malthazor repeats, completely stumped by this announcement but as Ryan crosses his arms, he grimaces, “Okay, but, see – the thing is…your bond is, um, broken. So, you know, you-you don’t actually have any rights to-”

Ryan reaches for the gun and Malthazor lets out a wry laugh, “But hey, I’m a DEMON. Right?! I love breaking rules! So, yeah! F-Fuck the establishment!”

Malthazor fully rises from the desk and turns back to his computer. He clicks the monitor back on, making sure his back is still to Ryan and Ryan’s pretty sure he’s closing up the pictures he was talking about. Especially once he resumes his seat, allowing Ryan to easily view the screen again. Malthazor opens a couple of documents, perusing them, and Ryan picks up some of the text, seeing lines from the bonding contract he signed.

He’s sure Malthazor is about to make some adjustments when suddenly the demon hunches forward, closer to the computer, “Holy shit.”

“What?”

Malthazor looks over his shoulder, “Uh, well…I-I was going to make some alterations. Y-you know, total-totally legit ones that would allow you to still have access to our offices and general supernatural rights, when I noticed this…this contract already _has_ them.”

Ryan frowns, “What does that mean?”

“It…it means Mr. Madej contacted my office at some point and had the contract amended. Looks like Nathalgrub’s work. The guy I was talking to earlier? You’d call him ‘Nathaniel’. Anyway, looks like Mr. Madej had him add some revisions and shit, no wonder he was asking me about handouts earlier, that sneaky son of a-!”

“Wait,” Ryan asks, voice very low, “You’re saying Shane had me sign those papers _knowing_ this would happen.”

The swallow Malthazor takes is almost deafening and he looks at the gun, “If…if I say ‘yes’, are you going to shoot me again?”

“Stop worrying about the fucking gun; we’re done with that, okay?” Ryan grumbles even as he starts pacing because _fuck_. Fucking Shane! Fucking bastard _knew_ he was going to do this? Knew he was going to give himself up to the Void to-to what? Save Ryan? Is that what he was thinking? What _was_ he thinking? How could he-? Ryan just rubs at his forehead and turns to Malthazor, “You’re saying I still have all the rights of a bondmate, then?”

Malthazor turns to the computer and reads aloud, “…with the understanding that should the bond be broken via one member of the union committing an act of self-sacrifice, the remaining party retains all rights and access as agreed upon when the bond was intact. This includes property, income, advisement,” he points at the screen itself, “That’s me! He probably thought I could advise you through this trying time.”

“Oh, you can advise me,” Ryan agrees, “You can help me find him.”

“Mr. Bergara,” Malthazor turns and looks at him and for a demon, his face is surprisingly soft, “I honestly think you should reconsider. As I’ve said, Mr. Madej and the Void are now one. He’s already smited over three dozen demons! He’s got blood all over his hands! Hell, maybe in his mouth! Y’know some demons _eat_ others ones. He could be chewing down on bones right now! Sucking out their marrow, filing them to a point with his fangs…”

“Jesus Christ, is _that_ what you saw in those photos?”

“No,” Malthazor says brightly, “I was just speculating.”

“Okay, well…keep that shit to yourself, dude.”

Malthazor gives Ryan a pitying glance, “Look, all I’m saying is, it might be for the best if you just move on. Shane Madej has gone fully demonic. He might even fall into being feral. There’s no saving him.”

“No,” Ryan returns firmly, “I refuse to believe that. I won’t.”

This gets a sad huff, “Your skepticism is admirable…albeit misplaced….”

“No,” he repeats, “You don’t know him, Mal. I do. And I won’t rest until he’s back home where he belongs.”

This gets a heavy exhale before Malthazor nods, “Alright, alright. Who am I to refuse the bondmate of such a high ranking demon? He’s already collected a vast amount of power and wealth from his kills. Whether he wants them or not. Seems all of that would’ve been passed to you regardless, so,” he shrugs, smiles, “Hell yeah! Let’s do this! I’ll start gathering intel right away.”

“Good,” Ryan starts towards the door, “Loop me in on everything. Photos included.”

“P-photos?” Malthazor looks at the computer as if it’s a bomb, “I don’t think-? I mean; shouldn’t-shouldn’t you-?”

He can’t seem to get words out, so Ryan fishes one of the papers off the floor as well as a pen. He puts both down on the desk and scribbles quickly before pushing it towards Malthazor, “E-mail, cell number. I want everything. _Everything_. Understand?”

The demon looks put out, but takes the paper regardless, scanning it even as he bobs his head, “Yes, sir.”

“You’ll be available?”

“Judy’ll give you my new information. I’ll still hold an office here, but I’m part of the red phone elite now. Moving up in the world,” the last is added with a little self-depreciation, as if he’s just realized his promotion might not be all it’s cracked up to be.

 

+

 

Ryan walks deeper into the Buzzfeed offices. The lights are all off and somehow he just knows this is a dream. He’s had dreams before where he’s realized it’s a dream, but usually that happens moments before he wakes up. This is different. Somehow he recognizes that this is a dream but it _feels_ real. It feels like something he can stay cognizant in and he’s only felt like this one time before.

The lucid dream with Shane. The one Shane made with his powers and he’d probably hate if Ryan put it that way. It makes it sound like he’s a superhero or something. Although, according to Malthazor, these days he’s a super villain and Ryan pushes all that aside because there’s a glow in the distance. He moves through the offices with ease, even in the shadows, because he knows the place like the back of his hand.

The direction he’s going in even more so and he sees his desk and Shane’s butted up against one another. The normal clutter on each desk has been shoved aside and Shane sits there, crossed legged on top. A large cake rests in front of him and it’s covered with an obscene amount of candles. His eyes are normal. His _everything_ is normal. His lips twitch as he murmurs, “Hey, Ryan.”

“Shane? What are you-?”

“Sixteen candles,” Shane says simply with a wave at the cake, “That would’ve been better, right?”

Ryan’s face must display his confusion, although it sends Shane into a laughing fit, “Shit, dude. You look constipated. Do you even know that movie or-?”

“Yes, I know the movie, dick! I’m more…” Ryan edges ever closer and he looks at the cake. It has the classic ‘Happy Birthday, Ryan!’ emblazoned on it in red edible gel, the frosting bright white and the candles…they burn but don’t melt. Ryan clambers on the desk opposite Shane, taking the same position, his legs crossed as he glares at him over the flames, “You left.”

“I did. Sorry.”

“You can take that ‘sorry’ and shove it right up your demon ass!” Ryan hisses, “Where are you?”

Shane sighs and scratches at his head, “I can’t tell you that.”

“The fuck you can’t!”

“No, Ryan. I really can’t. I’m not doing this and I’m not…” he winces, head shaking, “I’m not alone…”

For a split second his face is like the way Ryan saw it last. Eyes glowing red, a dark shadow over his features. It blurs in and out of focus, dreamlike, and Ryan breathes in, “I knew it. The Void…it’s in you. It’s making you do these things. I’ll help you, I’ll-!”

“Ryan, no,” Shane’s reply is sharp; “Don’t you get it? I’m the Void now. The Void is me. We’re one and the same and I’m…I just,” he rubs at his eyes and looks terribly tired, terribly old, “You really only got to see the decent parts of the supernatural world. Yeah, the Void was scary, but everything else? The Lot, Mal, Judy, Qyrora, Gladys…low key introductions. Bright spots in a pretty dark universe. I kept that from you. I didn’t want you to see…”

He trails off; looks apprehensive, his eyes fixated on the candles until Ryan gives him a nudge, “See?”

“I didn’t want you to see me as I really am,” Shane confesses, “As a monster.”

“Oh, you _are_ a monster alright,” Ryan confirms, “But you were a monster long before you showed me your goddamn horns. Riling me up, fighting with me, being a general asshat…”

“Ryan, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Ryan gruffs, “I’m not changing my mind on this. You decided to ‘sacrifice’ yourself for me,” he makes sure to air quote ‘sacrifice’, “just after we pretty much start dating? Not cool. So, I’m going to find you, I’m going to save you, and then I swear by all that’s holy, I’m going to punch you right in the dick.”

This gets a watery laugh even as Shane shakes his head, “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Well, wish in one hand and crap in the other, buddy.”

Shane wrinkles his nose, “Gross.”

“You’ve heard worse.”

“I have. I’ve done worse too,” he entreats, “Ryan, I’m a demon. You hate demons. You don’t fuck with them. I’m…I’m evil. I’m all the things you’ve said about them. I’ve done things…things I’ve never told you about. Terrible things. And now I’m-I’m going to do worse, so you need to just-!”

Ryan reaches out and touches Shane’s face and he can _feel_ it. He feels the stubble under his fingers, the warmth, and he shakes his head, “No. I’m finding you. I’m finding you and I’m bring you back so just…so just fucking deal with it.”

Shane covers Ryan’s hands with his own and a fond smile takes his face, “God, why do you always have to believe in things I don’t want you to, huh? Why you gotta be so stubborn?”

Ryan just shrugs, “It’s what you like best about me.”

“Just ‘like’?” Shane whispers, his hands lowering Ryan’s and their eyes lock. Ryan’s voice dips just as low, “Not saying that until I see you again.”

“You might never-”

“Shh,” Ryan cuts him off and somehow the cake between them is gone yet there’s still light and he’s closer, close enough that he can give Shane a kiss and it’s the best of dreams. Bittersweet and short. Far too short. Ryan’s cell phone rings, the musical tone drawing him from his slumber. He fell asleep huddled over his kitchen table surrounded by too many empty beer cans. Exhaustion, melancholy, and alcohol had finally taken their toll. It’d been his first true sleep in days.

 He resents his phone and thanks it all at the same time because that dream…

…fuck, it was just a _dream_.

He sees Mal’s name emblazoned on the screen and he answers, voice rough, “Yeah, what’ve you got?”

The hunt begins.

 

**Believer - The End**

**Skeptic - The Beginning**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, thanks for reading this monstrosity. Every comment any of you made was a special moment for me. Honestly, I checked for comments every day constantly - it kept me going through good times and bad!
> 
> Hope you're geared up for the next part in The Bonded series. Yes. This is a series now. I hope to have Skeptic, Chapter 1 out sometime later this week.

**Author's Note:**

> Visiting me on [tumblr](http://cellard0ors.tumblr.com/) is cool.


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